University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


Gift  of 


EYVIND  FAYE 


"/■7<t2/C..<frr/<3/'> 


PERSONALITY 


-*&&& 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  •    BOSTON   •   CHICAGO  •    DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •    SAN   FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Limited 

LONDON  •    BOMBAY  •    CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


At  Santa  Barbara,  California. 


PERSONALITY 


BY 

SIR    RABINDRANATH    TAGORE 

AUTHOR  OF 
"  GITANJALI,"    "  THE  CRESCENT  MOON,"  ETC. 


Nefo  gorfc 

THE   MACMILLAN    COMPANY 

1917 

All  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1917, 
By  THE  M  ACM  ILL  AN  COMPANY. 

Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  March,  1917. 


NorrjjooU  $regg 

J.  S.  Cushing  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 

Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


TO 

C.    F.    ANDREWS 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    What  Is  Art 9 

II.    The  World  of  Personality        .        .        .        .55 

III.  The  Second  Birth 97 

IV.  My  School     ........  135 

V.     Meditation 181 

VI.    Woman 201 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


At  Santa  Barbara,  California 
At  the  San  Diego  Exposition 

.  : 

.    Frontispiece 

FACING   PAGE 

•         •       38 

Sir  Rabindranath  Tagore  and  W. 

W 

Pearson 

at  River- 

side,  California 

• 

• 

72 

At  Santa  Barbara,  California 

• 

• 

104 

At  Colorado  Springs,  Colorado  . 

• 

• 

144 

At  Salt  Lake  City    . 

, 

. 

188 

WHAT  IS  ART? 


WHAT  IS  ART? 

We  are  face  to  face  with  this  great  world  and 
our  relations  to  it  are  manifold.  One  of  these 
is  the  necessity  we  have  to  live,  to  till  the  soil, 
to  gather  food,  to  clothe  ourselves,  to  get  materials 
from  nature.  And  we  are  always  making  things 
that  will  satisfy  our  need,  and  we  come  in  touch 
with  Nature  in  our  efforts  to  meet  these  needs. 
We  are  always  in  touch  with  this  great  world 
through  hunger  and  thirst  and  all  our  physical 
needs. 

Then  we  have  our  mind ;  and  mind  seeks  its 
own  food.  Mind  has  its  necessity  also.  It 
must  find  out  reason  in  things.  It  is  faced  with 
a  multiplicity  of  facts,  and  is  bewildered  when 
it  cannot  find  one  unifying  principle  which  sim- 
plifies the  heterogeneity  of  things.  Man's  con- 
stitution is  such  that  he  must  not  only  find  facts, 
but  also  some  laws  which  will  lighten  the  burden 
of  mere  number  and  quantity. 

ii 


V 


12  PERSONALITY 

There  is  yet  another  man  in  me,  not  the  physical, 
but  the  personal  man;  which  has  its  likes  and 
dislikes,  and  wants  to  find  something  to  fulfil 
its  needs  of  love.  This  personal  man  is  found 
in  the  region  where  we  are  free  from  all  necessity, 
—  above  the  needs,  both  of  body  and  mind,  — 
above  the  expedient  and  useful.  It  is  the  high- 
est in  man,  —  this  personal  man.  And  it  has 
personal  relations  of  its  own  with  the  great  world, 
and  comes  to  it  for  something  to  satisfy  per- 
sonality. 

The  world  of  science  is  not  a  world  of  reality, 
it  is  an  abstract  world  of  force.  We  can  use  it 
by  the  help  of  our  intellect  but  cannot  realize  it 
by  the  help  of  our  personality.  It  is  like  a  swarm 
of  mechanics  who,  though  producing  things  for 
ourselves  as  personal  beings,  are  mere  shadows 
to  us. 

But  there  is  another  world  which  is  real  to  us. 
We  see  it,  feel  it;  we  deal  with  it  with  all  our 
emotions.  Its  mystery  is  endless  because  we 
cannot  analyze  it  or  measure  it.  We  can  but 
say,  "  Here  you  are." 


WHAT    IS    ART  ?  13 

This  is  the  world  from  which  Science  turns 
away,  and  in  which  Art  takes  its  place.  And  if 
we  can  answer  the  question  as  to  what  art  is,  we 
shall  know  what  this  world  is  with  which  art  has 
such  intimate  relationship 

It  is  not  an  important  question  as  it  stands. 
For  Art,  like  life  itself,  has  grown  by  its  own 
impulse,  and  man  has  taken  his  pleasure  in  it 
without  definitely  knowing  what  it  is.  And 
we  could  safely  leave  it  there,  in  the  subsoil 
of  consciousness,  where  things  that  are  of  life  are 
nourished  in  the  dark. 

But  we  live  in  an  age  when  our  world  is  turned 
inside  out  and  where  there  is  dragged  to  the 
surface  whatever  lies  at  the  bottom.  Our  very 
process  of  living,  which  is  an  unconscious  process, 
we  must  bring  under  the  scrutiny  of  our  knowl- 
edge, —  even  though  to  know  is  to  kill  our  object 
of  research  and  to  make  it  a  museum  specimen. 

Questions  have  been  asked,  "What  is  Art?" 
and  answers  have  been  given  by  various  persons. 
These  discussions  are  introducing  elements  of 
conscious  purpose  into  the  region  where  both  our 


14  PERSONALITY 

faculties  of  creation  and  enjoyment  have  been 
spontaneous  and  half-conscious.  They  are  sup- 
plying us  with  very  definite  standards  by  which 
to  guide  our  judgment  of  art  productions.  There- 
fore we  have  heard  judges  in  the  modern  time 
giving  verdict,  according  to  some  special  legisla- 
ture of  their  own  make,  for  the  dethronement  of 
immortals  whose  supremacy  has  been  unchal- 
lenged for  centuries. 

This  meteorological  disturbance  in  the  atmos- 
phere of  art  criticism,  whose  origin  is  in  the  West, 
has  crossed  over  to  our  own  shores  in  Bengal, 
bringing  mist  and  clouds  in  its  wake,  where  there 
was  a  clear  sky.  We  have  begun  to  ask  ourselves 
whether  creations  of  art  should  not  be  judged 
either  according  to  their  fitness  to  be  universally 
understood,  or  their  philosophical  interpretation 
of  life,  or  their  usefulness  for  solving  the  problems 
of  the  day,  or  their  giving  expression  to  some- 
thing which  is  peculiar  to  the  genius  of  the  people 
to  which  the  artist  belongs.  Therefore  when 
men  are  seriously  engaged  in  fixing  the  standard 
of  value  in  art  by  something  which  is  not  inherent 


WHAT    IS   ART  ?  15 

in  it,  —  or  in  other  words  when  the  excellence  of 
the  river  is  going  to  be  judged  by  the  point  of 
view  of  a  canal,  we  cannot  leave  the  question  to 
its  fate,  but  must  take  our  part  in  the  deliberations. 
Should  we  begin  with  a  definition  ?  But  defi- 
nition of  a  thing  which  has  a  life  growth  is  really 
limiting  one's  own  vision  in  order  to  be  able  to 
see  clearly.  But  clearness  is  not  necessarily  the 
only,  or  the  most  important,  aspect  of  a  truth. 
A  bull's-eye  lantern  view  is  a  clear  view,  but  not 
a  complete  view.  If  we  must  know  a  wheel  in 
motion,  we  should  not  mind  if  all  its  spokes  cannot 
be  counted.  When  not  merely  the  accuracy  of 
shape,  but  velocity  of  motion,  is  important,  we 
have  to  be  content  with  a  somewhat  imperfect 
definition  of  the  wheel.  Living  things  have 
far-reaching  relationships  with  their  surround- 
ings, some  of  which  are  invisible  and  go  deep 
down  into  the  soil.  In  our  zeal  for  definition 
we  lop  off  branches  and  roots  of  a  tree  to  turn 
it  into  a  log,  which  is  easier  to  roll  about  from 
classroom  to  classroom,  and  therefore  suitable 
for  a  text-book.     But  because  it  allows  a  nakedly 


16  PERSONALITY 

clear  view  of  itself,  it  cannot  be  said  that  a  log 
gives  a  truer  view  of  a  tree  as  a  whole. 

Therefore  I  shall  not  define  Art,  but  question 
myself  about  the  reason  of  its  existence,  and  try 
to  find  out  whether  it  owes  its  origin  to  some 
social  purpose,  or  to  the  need  of  catering  for 
our  aesthetic  enjoyment,  or  whether  it  has  come 
out  of  some  impulse  of  expression,  which  is  the 
impulse  of  our  being  itself. 

A  fight  has  been  going  on  for  a  long  time  round 
the  saying,  "Art  for  Art's  sake,"  which  seems  to 
have  fallen  into  disrepute  among  a  section  of 
Western  critics.  It  is  a  sign  of  the  recurrence 
of  the  ascetic  ideal  of  the  puritanic  age,  when 
enjoyment  as  an  end  in  itself  was  held  to  be 
sinful.  But  all  puritanism  is  a  reaction.  It 
does  not  represent  truth  in  its  normal  aspect. 
When  enjoyment  loses  its  direct  touch  with  life, 
growing  fastidious  and  fantastic  in  its  world  of 
elaborate  conventions,  then  comes  the  call  for 
renunciation  which  rejects  happiness  itself  as  a 
snare.  I  am  not  going  into  the  history  of  your 
modern  art,  which  I   am   not   at   all   competent 


WHAT    IS    ART  ?  17 

to  discuss ;  yet  I  can  assert  it,  as  a  general  truth, 
that  when  a  man  tries  to  thwart  himself  in  his 
desire  for  delight,  converting  it  merely  into  his 
desire  to  know,  or  to  do  good,  then  the  cause 
must  be  that  his  power  of  feeling  delight  has 
lost  its  natural  bloom  and  healthiness. 

The  rhetoricians  in  old  India  had  no  hesita- 
tion in  saying,  that  enjoyment  is  the  soul  of 
literature,  —  the  enjoyment  which  is  disinter- 
ested. But  the  word  " enjoyment"  has  to  be 
used  with  caution.  When  analyzed,  its  spectrum 
shows  an  endless  series  of  rays  of  different  col- 
ours and  intensity  throughout  its  different  worlds 
of  stars.  The  art  world  contains  elements  which 
are  distinctly  its  own  and  which  emit  lights  that 
have  their  special  range  and  property.  It  is 
our  duty  to  distinguish  them  and  come  to  their 
origin  and  growth. 

The  most  important  distinction  between  the 
animal  and  man  is  this,  that  the  animal  is  very 
nearly  bound  within  the  limits  of  its  necessities, 
the  greater  part  of  its  activities  being  necessary 
for  its  self-preservation  and  preservation  of  race. 


18  PERSONALITY 

Like  a  retail  shopkeeper,  it  has  no  large  profit 
from  its  trade  of  life ;  the  bulk  of  its  earnings 
must  be  spent  in  paying  back  the  interest  to 
its  bank.  Most  of  its  resources  are  employed 
in  the  mere  endeavour  to  live.  But  man,  in 
life's  commerce,  is  a  big  merchant.  He  earns 
a  great  deal  more  than  he  is  absolutely  com- 
pelled to  spend.  Therefore  there  is  a  vast  ex- 
cess of  wealth  in  man's  life,  which  gives  him 
the  freedom  to  be  useless  and  irresponsible  to  a 
great  measure.  There  are  large  outlying  tracts, 
surrounding  his  necessities,  where  he  has  objects 
that  are  ends  in  themselves. 

The  animals  must  have  knowledge,  so  that 
their  knowledge  can  be  employed  for  useful  pur- 
poses of  their  life.  But  there  they  stop.  They 
must  know  their  surroundings  in  order  to  be  able 
to  take  their  shelter  and  seek  their  food,  some 
properties  of  things  in  order  to  build  their  dwell- 
ings, some  signs  of  the  different  seasons  to  be 
able  to  get  ready  to  adapt  themselves  to  the 
changes.  Man  also  must  know  because  he 
must   live.     But   man   has    a    surplus   where   he 


WHAT    IS    ART  ?  19 

can  proudly  assert  that  knowledge  is  for  the 
sake  of  knowledge.  There  he  has  the  pure 
enjoyment  of  his  knowledge,  because  there  knowl- 
edge is  freedom.  Upon  this  fund  of  surplus  his 
science  and  philosophy  thrive. 

Then  again,  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  al- 
truism in  the  animal.  It  is  the  altruism  of 
parenthood,  the  altruism  of  the  herd  and  the 
hive.  This  altruism  is  absolutely  necessary  for 
race  preservation.  But  in  man  there  is  a  great 
deal  more  than  this.  Though  he  also  has  to 
be  good,  because  goodness  is  necessary  for  his 
race,  yet  he  goes  far  beyond  that.  His  goodness 
is  not  a  small  pittance,  barely  sufficient  for  a 
hand-to-mouth  moral  existence.  He  can  amply 
afford  to  say  that  goodness  is  for  the  sake  of 
goodness.  And  upon  this  wealth  of  goodness, 
—  where  honesty  is  not  valued  for  being  the 
best  policy,  but  because  it  can  afford  to  go  against 
all  policies,  —  man's  ethics  are  founded. 

The  idea  of  "Art  for  Art's  sake"  also  has 
its  origin  in  this  region  of  the  superfluous.  Let 
us,    therefore,    try    to    ascertain    what    activity 


20  PERSONALITY 

it  is,  whose  exuberance  leads  to  the  production 
of  Art. 

For  man,  as  well  as  for  animals,  it  is  necessary 
to  give  expression  to  his  feelings  of  pleasure 
and  displeasure,  fear,  anger  and  love.  In  ani- 
mals, these  emotional  expressions  have  gone 
little  beyond  their  bounds  of  usefulness.  But 
in  man,  though  they  still  have  roots  in  their 
original  purposes,  they  have  spread  their 
branches  far  and  wide  in  the  infinite  sky  high 
above  their  soil.  Man  has  a  fund  of  emotional 
energy  which  is  not  all  occupied  in  his  self-pres- 
ervation. This  surplus  seeks  its  outlet  in  the 
creation  of  Art,  for  man's  civilization  is  built 
upon  his  surplus. 

A  warrior  is  not  merely  content  with  fighting, 
which  is  needful,  but,  by  the  aid  of  music  and 
decorations,  he  must  give  expression  to  the 
heightened  consciousness  of  the  warrior  in  him, 
which  is  not  only  unnecessary,  but  in  some  cases 
suicidal.  The  man  who  has  a  strong  religious 
feeling  not  only  worships  his  deity  with  all 
care,    but    his    religious    personality    craves,    for 


WHAT    IS   ART  ?  21 

its  expression,  the  splendour  of  the  temple,  the 
rich  ceremonials  of  worship. 

When  a  feeling  is  aroused  in  our  hearts  which 
is  far  in  excess  of  the  amount  that  can  be  com- 
pletely absorbed  by  the  object  which  has  pro- 
duced it,  it  comes  back  to  us  and  makes  us  con- 
scious of  ourselves  by  its  return  waves.  When 
we  are  in  poverty,  all  our  attention  is  fixed  out- 
side us,  —  upon  the  objects  which  we  must 
acquire  for  our  need.  But  when  our  wealth 
greatly  surpasses  our  needs,  its  light  is  reflected 
back  upon  us,  and  we  have  the  exultation  of 
feeling  that  we  are  rich  persons.  This  is  the 
reason  why,  of  all  creatures,  only  man  knows 
himself,  because  his  impulse  of  knowledge  comes 
back  to  him  in  its  excess.  He  feels  more  in- 
tensely his  personality  than  other  creatures, 
because  his  power  of  feeling  is  more  than  can 
be  exhausted  by  his  objects.  This  efflux  of  the 
consciousness  of  his  personality  requires  an  out- 
pour of  expression.  Therefore,  in  Art,  man 
reveals  himself  and  not  his  objects.  His  objects 
have   their   place   in   books   of   information   and 


22  PERSONALITY 

science,  where  he  has  completely  to  conceal 
himself. 

I  know  I  shall  not  be  allowed  to  pass  un- 
challenged when  I  use  the  word  "  personality," 
which  has  such  an  amplitude  of  meaning. 
These  loose  words  can  be  made  to  fit  ideas 
which  have  not  only  different  dimensions,  but 
shapes  also.  They  are  like  raincoats,  hanging 
in  the  hall,  which  can  be  taken  away  by  absent- 
minded  individuals  having  no  claim  upon  them. 

Man,  as  a  knower,  is  not  fully  himself,  — 
his  mere  information  does  not  reveal  him.  But, 
as  a  person,  he  is  the  organic  man,  who  has  the 
inherent  power  to  select  things  from  his  sur- 
roundings for  making  them  his  own.  He  has 
his  forces  of  attraction  and  repulsion  by  which 
he  not  merely  piles  up  things  outside  him,  but 
creates  himself.  The  principal  creative  forces, 
which  transmute  things  into  our  living  struc- 
ture, are  emotional  forces.  A  man,  where  he 
is  religious,  is  a  person,  but  not  where  he  is  mere 
theologian.  His  feeling  for  the  divine  is  crea- 
tive.    But    his    mere    knowledge    of    the    divine 


WHAT    IS    ART  ?  23 

cannot  be  formed  into  his  own  essence  because 
of  this  lack  of  the  emotional  fire. 

Let  us  here  consider  what  are  the  contents  of 
this  personality  and  how  it  is  related  to  the  outer 
world.  This  world  appears  to  us  as  an  individ- 
ual, and  not  merely  as  a  bundle  of  invisible 
forces.  For  this,  as  everybody  knows,  it  is 
greatly  indebted  to  our  senses  and  our  mind. 
This  apparent  world  is  man's  world.  It  has 
taken  its  special  features  of  shapes,  colours  and 
movements  from  the  peculiar  range  and  quali- 
ties of  our  perception.  It  is  what  our  sense 
limits  have  specially  acquired  and  built  for  us 
and  walled  up.  Not  only  the  physical  and 
chemical  forces,  but  man's  perceptual  forces,  are 
its  potent  factors,  —  because  it  is  man's  world, 
and  not  an  abstract  world  of  physics  or  meta- 
physics. 

This  world,  which  takes  its  form  in  the  mould 
of  man's  perception,  still  remains  only  as  the 
partial  world  of  his  senses  and  mind.  It  is  like 
a  guest  and  not  like  a  kinsman.  It  becomes 
completely  our  own  when   it  comes  within   the 


24  PERSONALITY 

range  of  our  emotions.  With  our  love  and 
hatred,  pleasure  and  pain,  fear  and  wonder, 
continually  working  upon  it,  this  world  is  be- 
coming a  part  of  our  personality.  It  grows 
with  our  growth,  it  changes  with  our  changes. 
We  are  great  or  small,  according  to  the  mag- 
nitude and  littleness  of  this  assimilation,  ac- 
cording to  the  quality  of  its  sum  total.  If  this 
world  were  taken  away,  our  personality  would 
lose  all  its  content. 

Our  emotions  are  the  gastric  juices  which 
transform  this  world  of  appearance  into  the 
more  intimate  world  of  sentiments.  On  the 
other  hand,  this  outer  world  has  its  own  juices, 
having  their  various  qualities  which  excite  our 
emotional  activities.  This  is  called  in  our  San- 
skrit rhetoric  rasa,  which  signifies  outer  juices 
having  their  response  in  the  inner  juices  of  our 
emotions.  And  a  poem,  according  to  it,  is  a 
sentence  or  sentences  containing  juices,  which 
stimulate  the  juices  of  emotion.  It  brings  to  us 
ideas,  vitalized  by  feelings,  ready  to  be  made 
into  the  life-stuff  of  our  nature. 


WHAT    IS    ART  ?  25 

Bare  information  of  facts  is  not  literature, 
because  it  gives  us  merely  the  facts  which  are 
independent  of  ourselves.  Repetition  of  the 
fact  that  the  sun  is  round,  water  is  liquid,  fire 
is  hot,  would  be  intolerable.  But  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  beauty  of  the  sunrise  has  its  eternal 
interest  for  us,  —  because  there,  it  is  not  the 
fact  of  the  sunrise,  but  ourselves,  which  is  the 
object  of  perennial  interest. 

It  is  said  in  the  Upanishat  that  "Wealth  is 
dear  to  us,  not  because  we  desire  the  fact  of 
the  wealth  itself,  but  because  we  desire  our- 
selves." Its  meaning  is,  that  we  feel  ourselves 
in  our  wealth,  —  and  therefore  we  love  it.  The 
things  which  arouse  our  emotions  arouse  our  own 
self-feeling.  It  is  like  our  touch  upon  the  harp- 
string  :  if  it  is  too  feeble,  then  we  are  merely  aware 
of  the  touch,  but  if  it  is  strong,  then  our  touch 
comes  back  to  us  in  tunes  and  our  consciousness 
is  intensified. 

There  is  the  world  of  science,  from  which  the 
elements  of  personality  have  been  carefully  re- 
moved.    We  must  not  touch  it  with  our  feelings. 


26  PERSONALITY 

But  there  is  also  the  vast  world,  which  is  per- 
sonal to  us.  We  must  not  merely  know  it,  and 
then  put  it  aside,  but  we  must  feel  it,  —  because, 
by  feeling  it,  we  feel  ourselves. 

But  how  can  we  express  our  personality,  which 
we  only  know  by  feeling  ?  A  scientist  can  make 
known  what  he  has  learned  by  analysis  and 
experiment.  But  what  an  artist  has  to  say, 
he  cannot  express  by  merely  informing  and 
explaining.  The  plainest  language  is  needed 
when  I  have  to  say  what  I  know  about  a  rose, 
but  to  say  what  I  feel  about  a  rose  is  different. 
There  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  facts,  or  with 
laws,  —  it  deals  with  taste,  which  can  be  real- 
ized only  by  tasting.  Therefore  the  Sanskrit 
rhetoricians  say,  in  poetry  we  have  to  use  words 
which  have  got  the  proper  taste,  —  which  do 
not  merely  talk,  but  conjure  up  pictures  and 
sing.  For  pictures  and  songs  are  not  merely 
facts,  —  they  are  personal  facts.  They  are  not 
only  themselves,  but  ourselves  also.  They  defy 
analysis  and  they  have  immediate  access  to  our 
hearts. 


WHAT    IS    ART  ?  27 

It  has  to  be  conceded,  that  man  cannot  help 
revealing  his  personality,  also,  in  the  world  of 
use.  But  there  self-expression  is  not  his  primary 
object.  In  everyday  life,  when  mostly  we  are 
moved  by  our  habits,  we  are  economical  in  our 
expression;  for  then  our  soul-consciousness  is 
at  its  low  level,  —  it  has  just  volume  enough  to 
glide  on  in  accustomed  grooves.  But  when 
our  heart  is  fully  awakened  in  love,  or  in 
other  great  emotions,  our  personality  is  in 
its  flood-tide.  Then  it  feels  the  longing  to 
express  itself  for  the  very  sake  of  expression. 
Then  comes  Art,  and  we  forget  the  claims  of 
necessity,  the  thrift  of  usefulness,  —  the  spires 
of  our  temples  try  to  kiss  the  stars  and  the 
notes  of  our  music  to  fathom  the  depth  of  the 
ineffable 

Man's  energies,  running  on  two  parallel  lines, 
—  that  of  utility  and  of  self-expression  —  tend 
to  meet  and  mingle.  By  constant  human  as- 
sociations sentiments  gather  around  our  things 
of  use  and  invite  the  help  of  art  to  reveal  them- 
selves, —  as  we  see  the  warrior's  pride  and  love 


28  PERSONALITY 

revealed  in  the  ornamental  sword  blade,  and 
the  comradeship  of  festive  gatherings  in  the 
wine  goblet. 

The  lawyer's  office,  as  a  rule,  is  not  a  thing 
of  beauty,  and  the  reason  is  obvious.  But  in  a 
city,  where  men  are  proud  of  their  citizenship, 
public  buildings  must  express  this  love  for  the 
city  in  their  structures.  When  the  British 
capital  was  removed  from  Calcutta  to  Delhi, 
there  was  discussion  about  the  style  of  architec- 
ture which  should  be  followed  in  the  new  build- 
ings. Some  advocated  the  Indian  style  of  the 
Moghal  period,  —  the  style  which  was  the  joint 
production  of  the  Moghal  and  the  Indian  genius. 
The  fact  that  they  lost  sight  of  was  that  all  true 
art  has  its  origin  in  sentiment.  Moghal  Delhi 
and  Moghal  Agra  show  their  human  personality 
in  their  buildings.  Moghal  emperors  were  men, 
they  were  not  mere  administrators.  They  lived 
and  died  in  India,  they  loved  and  fought.  The 
memorials  of  their  reigns  do  not  persist  in  the 
ruins  of  factories  and  offices,  but  in  immortal 
works    of    art,  —  not    only    in    great    buildings, 


WHAT    IS    ART  ?  29 

but  in  pictures  and  music  and  workmanship  in 
stone  and  metal,  in  cotton  and  wool  fabrics. 
But  the  British  government  in  India  is  not 
personal.  It  is  official  and  therefore  an  ab- 
straction. It  has  nothing  to  express  in  the 
true  language  of  art.  For  law,  efficiency  and 
exploitation  cannot  sing  themselves  into  epic 
stones.  Lord  Lytton,  who  unfortunately  was 
gifted  with  more  imagination  than  was  neces- 
sary for  an  Indian  Viceroy,  tried  to  copy  one 
of  the  state  functions  of  the  Moghals,  —  the 
Durbar  ceremony.  But  state  ceremonials  are 
works  of  art.  They  naturally  spring  from  the 
reciprocity  of  personal  relationship  between  the 
people  and  their  monarch.  When  they  are  copies, 
they  show  all  the  signs  of  the  spurious. 

How  utility  and  sentiments  take  different  lines 
in  their  expression  can  be  seen  in  the  dress  of  a 
man  compared  with  that  of  a  woman.  A  man's 
dress,  as  a  rule,  shuns  all  that  is  unnecessary 
and  merely  decorative.  But  a  woman  has  natu- 
rally selected  the  decorative,  not  only  in  her 
dress,  but  in  her  manners.     She  has  to  be  pic- 


30  PERSONALITY 

turesque  and  musical  to  make  manifest  what 
she  truly  is,  —  because,  in  her  position  in  the 
world,  woman  is  more  concrete  and  personal 
than  man.  She  is  not  to  be  judged  merely  by 
her  usefulness,  but  by  her  delightfulness.  There- 
fore she  takes  infinite  care  in  expressing,  not 
her  profession,  but  her  personality. 

The  principal  object  of  art,  also,  being  the 
expression  of  personality,  and  nothing  that  is 
abstract  and  analytical,  it  necessarily  uses  the 
language  of  picture  and  music.  This  has  led 
to  a  confusion  in  our  thought  that  the  object  of 
art  is  the  production  of  beauty ;  whereas,  beauty 
in  art  has  been  the  mere  instrument  and  not  its 
complete  and  ultimate  significance. 

As  a  consequence  of  this,  we  have  often  heard 
it  argued  whether  manner,  rather  than  matter, 
is  the  essential  element  in  art.  Such  arguments 
become  endless,  like  pouring  water  into  a  vessel 
whose  bottom  has  been  taken  away.  These 
discussions  owe  their  origin  to  the  idea  that 
beauty  is  the  object  of  art,  and,  because  mere 
matter  cannot  have  the  property  of  beauty,  it 


WHAT    IS    ART  ?  31 

becomes  a  question  whether  manner  is  not  the 
principal  factor  in  art. 

But  the  truth  is,  analytical  treatment  will  not 
help  us  in  discovering  what  is  the  vital  point 
in  art.  For  the  true  principle  of  art  is  the  prin- 
ciple of  unity.  When  we  want  to  know  the  food- 
value  of  certain  of  our  diets,  we  find  it  in  their 
component  parts ;  but  its  taste-value  is  in  its 
unity,  which  cannot  be  analyzed.  Matter,  taken 
by  itself,  is  an  abstraction  which  can  be  dealt 
with  by  science ;  also  manner,  which  is  merely 
manner,  is  an  abstraction  which  comes  under 
the  laws  of  rhetoric.  But  when  they  are  in- 
dissolubly  one,  then  they  find  their  harmonics 
in  our  personality,  which  is  an  organic  complex 
of  matter  and  manner,  thoughts  and  things, 
motives  and  actions. 

Therefore  we  find  all  abstract  ideas  are  out  of 
place  in  true  art,  where,  in  order  to  gain  admis- 
sion, they  must  come  under  the  disguise  of  per- 
sonification. This  is  the  reason  why  poetry 
tries  to  select  words  that  have  vital  qualities, 
—  words    that    are    not    for    mere    information, 


32  PERSONALITY 

but  have  become  naturalized  in  our  hearts  and 
have  not  been  worn  out  of  their  shapes  by  too 
constant  use  in  the  market.  For  instance,  the 
English  word  "consciousness"  has  not  yet  out- 
grown the  cocoon  stage  of  its  scholastic  inertia, 
therefore  it  is  seldom  used  in  poetry;  whereas 
its  Indian  synonym  "chetana"  is  a  vital  word 
and  is  of  constant  poetical  use.  On  the  other 
hand  the  English  word  "feeling"  is  fluid  with 
life,  but  its  Bengali  synonym  "anubhuti"  is 
refused  in  poetry,  because  it  merely  has  a 
meaning  and  no  flavour.  And  likewise  there  are 
some  truths,  coming  from  science  and  philos- 
ophy, that  have  acquired  life's  colour  and 
taste,  and  some  that  have  not.  Until  they 
have  done  this,  they  are,  for  art,  like  uncooked 
vegetables,  unfit  to  be  served  at  a  feast.  His- 
tory, so  long  as  it  copies  science  and  deals  with 
abstractions,  remains  outside  the  domain  of 
literature.  But,  as  a  narrative  of  facts,  it  takes 
its  place  by  the  side  of  the  epic  poem.  For 
narration  of  historical  facts  imparts  to  the  time 
to   which    they    belong    a    taste   of   personality. 


WHAT    IS    ART  ?  33 

Those  periods  become  human  to  us,  we  feel 
their  living  heart-beats. 

The  world  and  the  personal  man,  —  are  face 
to  face,  as  friends  who  question  one  another 
and  exchange  their  inner  secrets.  The  world 
asks  the  inner  man,  —  "Friend,  have  you  seen 
me  ?  Do  you  love  me  ?  —  not  the  one  who 
provides  you  with  foods  and  fruits,  not  the  one 
whose  laws  you  have  found  out,  but  the  one 
who  is  personal,  individual  ?" 

The  artist's  answer  is  "Yes,  I  have  seen  you, 
I  have  loved  and  known  you,  —  not  that  I  have 
any  need  of  you,  not  that  I  have  taken  you  and 
used  your  laws  for  my  own  purposes  of  power. 
I  know  the  forces  that  act  and  drive  and  lead 
to  power,  but  it  is  not  that.  I  see  you,  where 
you  are  what  I  am." 

But  how  do  you  know  that  the  artist  has  known, 
has  seen,  has  come  face  to  face  with  this  Person- 
ality? 

When  I  first  meet  any  one  who  is  not  yet  my 
friend,  I  observe  all  the  numberless  unessential 
things  which  attract  the  attention  at  first  sight: 


34  PERSONALITY 

and  in  the  wilderness  of  that  diversity  of  facts 
the  friend  who  is  to  be  my  friend  is  lost. 

When  our  steamer  reached  the  coast  of  Japan, 
one  of  our  passengers,  a  Japanese,  was  coming 
back  home  from  Rangoon ;  we  on  the  other  hand 
were  reaching  that  shore  for  the  first  time  in  our 
life.  There  was  a  great  difference  in  our  out- 
look. We  noted  every  little  peculiarity,  and 
innumerable  small  things  occupied  our  atten- 
tion. But  the  Japanese  passenger  dived  at  once 
into  the  personality,  the  soul  of  the  land,  where 
his  own  soul  found  satisfaction.  He  saw  fewer 
things,  we  saw  more  things ;  but  what  he  saw 
was  the  soul  of  Japan.  It  could  not  be  gauged 
by  any  quantity  or  number,  but  by  something 
invisible  and  deep.  It  could  not  be  said  that, 
because  we  saw  those  innumerable  things,  we 
saw  Japan  better,  but  rather  the  reverse. 

If  you  ask  me  to  draw  some  particular  tree, 
and  I  am  no  artist,  I  try  to  copy  every  detail, 
lest  I  should  otherwise  lose  the  peculiarity  of 
the  tree,  forgetting  that  the  peculiarity  is  not 
the  personality.     But  when  the  true  artist  comes, 


WHAT    IS   ART  ?  35 

he  overlooks  all  details  and  gets  into  the  essen- 
tial characterization. 

Our  rational  man  also  seeks  to  simplify  things 
into  their  inner  principle ;  to  get  rid  of  the  details  ; 
to  get  to  the  heart  of  things  where  things  are 
One.  But  the  difference  is  this,  —  the  scientist 
seeks  an  impersonal  principle  of  unification, 
which  can  be  applied  to  all  things.  For  instance 
he  destroys  the  human  body,  which  is  personal, 
in  order  to  find  out  physiology,  which  is  im- 
personal and  general. 

But  the  Artist  finds  out  the  unique,  the  in- 
dividual, which  yet  is  in  the  heart  of  the 
universal.  When  he  looks  on  a  tree,  he  looks 
on  that  tree  as  unique,  not  as  the  botanist 
who  generalizes  and  classifies.  It  is  the  func- 
tion of  the  Artist  to  particularize  that  one  tree. 
How  does  he  do  it  ?  Not  through  the  pecu- 
liarity which  is  the  discord  of  the  unique,  but 
through  the  personality  which  is  harmony. 
Therefore  he  has  to  find  out  the  inner  con- 
cordance of  that  one  thing  with  its  outer  sur- 
roundings of  all  things. 


36  PERSONALITY 

The  greatness  and  beauty  of  Oriental  art, 
especially  in  Japan  and  China,  consist  in  this, 
that  there  the  artists  have  seen  this  soul  of 
things  and  they  believe* in  it.  The  West  may 
believe  in  the  soul  of  Man,  but  she  does  not 
really  believe  that  the  universe  has  a  soul.  Yet 
this  is  the  belief  of  the  East,  and  the  whole 
mental  contribution  of  the  East  to  mankind  is 
filled  with  this  idea.  So  we,  in  the  East,  need 
not  go  into  details  and  emphasize  them;  for 
the  most  important  thing  is  this  universal  soul, 
for  which  the  Eastern  sages  have  sat  in  medita- 
tion, and  Eastern  artists  have  joined  them  in 
artistic  realization. 

Because  we  have  faith  in  this  universal  soul, 
we  in  the  East  know  that  Truth,  Power,  Beauty, 
lie  in  Simplicity,  —  where  it  is  transparent, 
where  things  do  not  obstruct  the  inner  vision. 
Therefore,  all  our  sages  have  tried  to  make  their 
lives  simple  and  pure,  because  thus  they  have 
the  realization  of  a  positive  Truth,  which,  though 
invisible,  is  more  real  than  the  gross  and  the 
numerous. 


WHAT    IS    ART  ?  37 

When  we  say  that  art  deals  only  with  those 
truths  that  are  personal,  we  do  not  exclude 
philosophical  ideas  which  are  apparently  ab- 
stract. They  are  quite  common  in  our  Indian 
literature,  because  they  have  been  woven  with 
the  fibres  of  our  personal  nature.  I  give  here  an 
instance  which  will  make  my  point  clear.  The 
following  is  a  translation  of  an  Indian  poem 
written  by  a  woman  poet  of  mediaeval  India, 
—  its  subject  is  Life. 

I  salute  the  Life  which  is  like  a  sprouting  seed, 
With  its  one  arm  upraised  in  the  air, 

and  the  other  down  in  the  soil ; 
The  Life  which  is  one  in  its  outer  form  and  its 

inner  sap ; 
The  Life  that  ever  appears,  yet  ever  eludes 
The  Life  that  comes  I  salute,  and  the  Life  that 

goes; 
I    salute   the    Life    that  is   revealed  and  that  is 

hidden ; 
I  salute  the  Life  in  suspense,  standing  still  like 

a  mountain, 
And  the  Life  of  the  surging  sea  of  fire ; 


38  PERSONALITY 

The  Life  that  is  tender  like  a  lotus,  and  hard 

like  a  thunderbolt. 
I  salute  the  Life  which  is  of  the  mind,  with  its 

one  side  in  the  dark  and  the  other  in  the 

light. 
I   salute    the    Life    in   the   house    and   the .  Life 

abroad  in  the  unknown, 
The  Life  full  of  joy  and  the  Life  weary  with  its 

pains, 
The   Life   eternally   moving,   rocking  the   world 

into  stillness, 
The  Life  deep  and  silent,  breaking  out  into  roar- 
ing waves. 

This  idea  of  life  is  not  a  mere  logical  deduc- 
tion ;  it  is  as  real  to  the  poetess  as  the  air  to 
the  bird  who  feels  it  at  every  beat  of  its  wings. 
Woman  has  realized  the  mystery  of  life  in  her 
child  more  intimately  than  man  has  done.  This 
woman's  nature  in  the  poet  has  felt  the  deep 
stir  of  life  in  all  the  world.  She  has  known  it 
to  be  infinite,  —  not  through  any  reasoning 
process,    but    through    the    illumination    of    her 


o 


o 

- 

w 

o 

o 


< 

CO 


X 
H 

H 


WHAT    IS   ART?  39 

feeling.  Therefore  the  same  idea,  which  is  a 
mere  abstraction  to  one  whose  sense  of  the  reality 
is  limited,  becomes  luminously  real  to  another 
whose  sensibility  has  a  wider  range.  We  have 
often  heard  the  Indian  mind  being  described 
by  the  Western  critics  as  metaphysical,  because 
it  is  ready  to  soar  in  the  infinite.  But  it  has  to 
be  noted  that  the  infinite  is  not  a  mere  matter 
of  philosophical  speculation  to  India;  it  is  real 
to  her  as  the  sunlight.  She  must  see  it,  feel  it, 
make  use  of  it  in  her  life.  Therefore  it  has  come 
out  so  profusely  in  her  symbolism  of  worship, 
in  her  literature.  The  poet  of  the  Upanishat 
has  said  that  the  slightest  movement  of  life 
would  be  impossible  if  the  sky  were  not  filled 
with  infinite  joy.  This  universal  presence  was 
as  much  of  a  reality  to  him  as  the  earth  under 
his  feet,  nay,  even  more.  The  realization  of 
this  has  broken  out  in  a  song  of  an  Indian  poet 
who  was  born  in  the  fifteenth  century : 

"There  falls  the  rhythmic  beat  of  life  and  death : 
Rapture   wells   forth,  and    all  space  is  radiant 
with  light. 


4o  PERSONALITY 

There  the  unstruck  music  is  sounded ;    it  is  the 

love  music  of  three  worlds. 
There  millions  of  lamps  of  sun  and  moon  are 

burning ; 
There   the   drum   beats   and   the   lover   swings 

in  play. 
There  love  songs   resound,  and    light   rains   in 

showers." 

In  India,  the  greater  part  of  our  literature  is 
religious,  because  God  with  us  is  not  a  distant 
God;  He  belongs  to  our  homes,  as  well  as  to 
our  temples.  We  feel  His  nearness  to  us  in  all 
the  human  relationship  of  love  and  affection, 
and  in  our  festivities  He  is  the  chief  guest  whom 
we  honour.  In  seasons  of  flowers  and  fruits, 
in  the  coming  of  the  rain,  in  the  fulness  of  the 
autumn,  we  see  the  hem  of  His  mantle  and  hear 
His  footsteps.  We  worship  Him  in  all  the  true 
objects  of  our  worship  and  love  Him  wherever 
our  love  is  true.  In  the  woman  who  is  good  we 
feel  Him,  in  the  man  who  is  true  we  know  Him, 
in  our  children  He  is  born  again  and  again,  the 
Eternal    Child.     Therefore    religious    songs    are 


WHAT   IS   ART  ?  41 

our  love  songs,  and  our  domestic  occurrences, 
such  as  the  birth  of  a  son,  or  the  coming  of  the 
daughter  from  her  husband's  house  to  her  par- 
ents and  her  departure  again,  are  woven  in  our 
literature  as  a  drama  whose  counterpart  is  in  the 
divine. 

It  is  thus  that  the  domain  of  literature  has 
extended  into  the  region  which  seems  hidden 
in  the  depth  of  mystery  and  made  it  human 
and  speaking.  It  is  growing,  keeping  pace  with 
the  conquest  made  by  the  human  personality 
in  the  realm  of  truth.  It  is  growing,  not  only 
into  history,  science  and  philosophy,  but,  with 
our  expanding  sympathy,  into  our  social  con- 
sciousness. The  classical  literature  of  the  an- 
cient time  was  only  peopled  by  saints  and  kings 
and  heroes.  It  threw  no  light  upon  men  who 
loved  and  suffered  in  obscurity.  But  as  the 
illumination  of  man's  personality  throws  its  light 
upon  a  wider  space,  penetrating  into  hidden 
corners,  the  world  of  art  also  crosses  its  frontiers 
and  extends  its  boundaries  into  unexplored  re- 
gions.    Thus   art   is   signalizing   man's   conquest 


42  PERSONALITY 

of  the  world  by  its  symbols  of  beauty,  springing 
up  in  spots  which  were  barren  of  all  voice  and 
colours.  It  is  supplying  man  with  his  banners, 
under  which  he  marches  to  fight  against  the 
inane  and  the  inert,  proving  his  living  claims 
far  and  wide  in  God's  creation.  Even  the  spirit 
of  the  desert  has  owned  its  kinship  with  him, 
and  the  lonely  pyramids  are  there  as  memorials 
of  the  meeting  of  Nature's  silence  with  the  silence 
of  the  human  spirit.  The  darkness  of  the  caves 
has  yielded  its  stillness  to  man's  soul,  and  in 
exchange  has  secretly  been  crowned  with  the 
wreath  of  art.  Bells  are  ringing  in  temples, 
in  villages  and  populous  towns  to  proclaim  that 
the  infinite  is  not  a  mere  emptiness  to  man. 
This  encroachment  of  man's  personality  has  no 
limit,  and  even  the  markets  and  factories  of  the 
present  age,  even  the  schools  where  children  of 
man  are  imprisoned  and  jails  where  are  the 
criminals,  will  be  mellowed  with  the  touch  of 
art,  and  lose  their  distinction  of  rigid  discordance 
with  life.  For  the  one  effort  of  man's  personal- 
ity  is    to   transform   everything   with   which    he 


WHAT   IS   ART  ?  43 

has  any  true  concern  into  the  human.  And 
art  is  like  the  spread  of  vegetation,  to  show  how 
far  man  has  reclaimed  the  desert  for  his  own. 

We  have  said  before  that  where  there  is  an 
element  of  the  superfluous  in  our  heart's  re- 
lationship with  the  world,  Art  has  its  birth.  In 
other  words,  where  our  personality  feels  its 
wealth  it  breaks  out  in  display.  What  we  de- 
vour for  ourselves  is  totally  spent.  What  over- 
flows our  need  becomes  articulate.  The  stage 
of  pure  utility  is  like  the  state  of  heat  which  is 
dark.  When  it  surpasses  itself,  it  becomes  white 
heat  and  then  it  is  expressive. 

Take,  for  instance,  our  delight  in  eating.  It 
is  soon  exhausted,  it  gives  no  indication  of  the 
infinite.  Therefore,  though  in  its  extensiveness 
it  is  more  universal  than  any  other  passion,  it 
is  rejected  by  art.  It  is  like  an  immigrant  com- 
ing to  these  Atlantic  shores,  who  can  show  no 
cash  balance  in  his  favour. 

In  our  life  we  have  one  side  which  is  finite, 
where  we  exhaust  ourselves  at  every  step,  and 
we  have  another  side,  where  our  aspiration,  en- 


44  PERSONALITY 

joyment  and  sacrifice  are  infinite.  This  infinite 
side  of  man  must  have  its  revealments  in  some 
symbols  which  have  the  elements  of  immortality. 
There  it  naturally  seeks  perfection.  Therefore  it 
refuses  all  that  is  flimsy  and  feeble  and  incongru- 
ous. It  builds  for  its  dwelling  a  paradise,  where 
only  those  materials  are  used  that  have  tran- 
scended the  earth's  mortality. 

For  men  are  the  children  of  light.  Whenever 
they  fully  realize  themselves  they  feel  their 
immortality.  And,  as  they  feel  it,  they  extend 
their  realm  of  the  immortal  into  every  region 
of  human  life. 

This  building  of  his  true  world,  —  the  living 
world  of  truth  and  beauty,  —  is  the  function 
of  Art. 

Man  is  true,  where  he  feels  his  infinity,  where 
he  is  divine,  and  the  divine  is  the  creator  in 
him.  Therefore  with  the  attainment  of  his 
truth  he  creates.  For  he  can  truly  live  in  his 
own  creation  and  make  out  of  God's  world  his 
own  world.  This  is  the  heaven  of  his  own,  the 
heaven  of  ideas  shaped  into  perfect  forms,  with 


WHAT   IS   ART  ?  45 

which  he  surrounds  himself;  where  his  children 
are  born,  where  they  learn  how  to  live  and  to 
die,  how  to  love  and  to  fight,  where  they  know 
that  the  real  is  not  that  which  is  merely  seen 
and  wealth  is  not  that  which  is  stored.  If  man 
could  only  listen  to  the  voice  that  rises  from 
the  heart  of  his  own  creation,  he  would  hear 
the  same  message  that  came  from  the  Indian 
sage  of  the  ancient  time : 

"Hearken  to  me,  ye  children  of  the  Immortal, 
dwellers  of  the  heavenly  worlds,  I  have  known 
the  supreme  Person  who  comes  as  light  from  the 
dark  beyond." 

Yes  it  is  that  Supreme  Person,  who  has  made 
himself  known  to  man  and  made  this  universe 
so  deeply  personal  to  him.  Therefore,  in  India, 
our  places  of  pilgrimage  are  there,  where  in  the 
confluence  of  the  river  and  the  sea,  in  the  eternal 
snow  of  the  mountain  peak,  in  the  lonely  sea- 
shore, some  aspect  of  the  infinite  is  revealed 
which  has  its  great  voice  for  our  heart,  and 
there  man  has  left  in  his  images  and  temples, 
in     his     carvings     of     stone,     these     words,  — 


46  PERSONALITY 

"Hearken  to  me,  I  have  known  the  Supreme 
Person."  In  the  mere  substance  and  law  of 
this  world  we  do  not  meet  the  person,  but  where 
the  sky  is  blue,  and  the  grass  is  green,  where 
the  flower  has  its  beauty  and  fruit  its  taste, 
where  there  is  not  only  perpetuation  of  race, 
but  joy  of  living  and  love  of  fellow  creatures, 
sympathy  and  self-sacrifice,  there  is  revealed 
to  us  the  Person  who  is  infinite.  There,  not 
merely  facts  are  pelted  down  upon  our  heads, 
but  we  feel  the  bond  of  the  personal  relationship 
binding  our  hearts  with  this  world  through  all 
time.  And  this  is  Reality,  which  is  truth  made 
our  own,  —  truth  that  has  its  eternal  relation 
with  the  Supreme  Person.  This  world  whose 
soul  seems  to  be  aching  for  expression  in  its 
endless  rhythm  of  lines  and  colours,  music  and 
movements,  hints  and  whispers,  and  all  the 
suggestion  of  the  inexpressible,  finds  its  har- 
mony in  the  ceaseless  longing  of  the  human 
heart  to  make  the  Person  manifest  in  its  own 
creations. 

The  desire  for  the  manifestation  of  this  Person 


WHAT    IS   ART  ?  47 

makes  us  lavish  with  all  our  resources.  When 
we  accumulate  wealth,  we  have  to  account  for 
every  penny;  we  reason  accurately  and  we  act 
with  care.  But  when  we  set  about  to  express 
our  wealthiness,  we  seem  to  lose  sight  of  all 
lines  of  limit.  In  fact,  none  of  us  has  wealth 
enough  fully  to  express  what  we  mean  by 
wealthiness.  When  we  try  to  save  our  life 
from  an  enemy's  attack,  we  are  cautious  in 
our  movements.  But  when  we  feel  impelled 
to  express  our  personal  bravery,  we  willingly 
take  risks  and  go  to  the  length  of  losing  our 
lives.  We  are  careful  of  expenditure  in  our 
everyday  life,  but  on  festive  occasions,  when 
we  express  our  joy,  we  are  thriftless  even  to  the 
extent  of  going  beyond  our  means.  For  when 
we  are  intensely  conscious  of  our  own  personality, 
we  are  apt  to  ignore  the  tyranny  of  facts.  We 
are  temperate  in  our  dealings  with  the  man 
with  whom  our  relation  is  the  relationship  of 
prudence.  But  we  feel  we  have  not  got  enough 
for  those  whom  we  love.  The  poet  says  of  the 
beloved : 


48  PERSONALITY 

"It  seems  to  me  that  I  have  gazed  at  your 
beauty  from  the  beginning  of  my  existence,  that 
I  have  kept  you  in  my  arms  for  countless  ages, 
yet  it  has  not  been  enough  for  me." 

He  says,  "Stones  would  melt  in  tenderness,  if 
touched  by  the  breeze  of  your  mantle." 

He  feels  that  his  "eyes  long  to  fly  like  birds 
to  see  his  beloved." 

Judged  from  the  standpoint  of  reason  these 
are  exaggerations,  but  from  that  of  the  heart, 
freed  from  limits  of  facts,  they  are  true. 

Is  it  not  the  same  in  God's  creation  ?  There, 
forces  are  mere  facts  and  matters  are  also,  — 
they  have  their  strict  accounts  kept  and  they 
can  be  accurately  weighed  and  measured.  Only 
beauty  is  not  a  mere  fact ;  it  cannot  be  accounted 
for,  it  cannot  be  surveyed  and  mapped.  It  is  an 
expression.  Facts  are  like  wine  cups  that  carry 
it,  they  are  hidden  by  it,  it  overflows  them.  It 
is  infinite  in  its  suggestions,  it  is  extravagant  in 
its  words.  It  is  personal,  therefore,  beyond 
science.  It  sings  as  does  the  poet,  "It  seems 
to    me    that    I    have    gazed    at    you    from    the 


WHAT    IS    ART  ?  49 

beginning  of  my  existence,  that  I  have  kept 
you  in  my  arms  for  countless  ages,  yet  it  has 
not  been  enough  for  me." 

So  we  find  that  our  world  of  expression  does 
not  accurately  coincide  with  the  world  of  facts, 
because  personality  surpasses  facts  on  every 
side.  It  is  conscious  of  its  infinity  and  creates 
from  its  abundance;  and  because,  in  art,  things 
are  challenged  from  the  standpoint  of  the  im- 
mortal Person,  those  which  are  important  in 
our  customary  life  of  facts  become  unreal  when 
placed  on  the  pedestal  of  art.  A  newspaper 
account  of  some  domestic  incident  in  the  life 
of  a  commercial  magnate  may  create  agitation 
in  Society,  yet  would  lose  all  its  proportion  if 
placed  by  the  side  of  great  works  of  art.  We 
can  well  imagine  how  it  would  hide  its  face  in 
shame,  if  by  some  cruel  accident  it  found  itself 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Keats'  "Ode  on  a  Gre- 
cian Urn." 

Yet  the  very  same  incident,  when  treated 
deeply,  divested  of  its  conventional  superficiality, 
has  a  better  claim  in  art  than  the  negotiation 


SO  PERSONALITY 

of  raising  a  big  loan  for  China,  or  the  defeat  of 
British  diplomacy  in  Turkey.  A  mere  house- 
hold event  of  a  husband's  jealousy  of  his  wife, 
as  depicted  in  one  of  Shakespeare's  tragedies, 
has  greater  value  in  the  realm  of  art  than  the 
code  of  caste  regulations  in  Manu's  scripture 
or  the  law  prohibiting  inhabitants  of  one  part 
of  the  world  from  receiving  human  treatment 
in  another.  For  when  facts  are  looked  upon 
as  mere  facts,  having  their  chain  of  consequences 
in  the  world  of  facts,  they  are  rejected  by  art. 

When,  however,  such  laws  and  regulations  as 
I  have  mentioned  are  viewed  in  their  applica- 
tion to  some  human  individual,  in  all  their  in- 
justice, insult  and  pain,  then  they  are  seen  in 
their  complete  truth  and  they  become  subjects 
for  art.  The  disposition  of  a  great  battle  may 
be  a  great  fact,  but  it  is  useless  for  the  purpose 
of  art.  But  what  that  battle  has  caused  to  a 
single  individual  soldier,  separated  from  his 
loved  ones  and  maimed  for  his  life,  has  a  vital 
value  for  art  which  deals  with  reality. 
^       Man's    social    world    is    like    some    nebulous 


WHAT   IS    ART  ?  51 

system  of  stars,  consisting  largely  of  a  mist  of 
abstractions,  with  such  names  as  society,  state, 
nation,  commerce,  politics  and  war.  In  their 
dense  amorphousness  man  is  hidden  and  truth 
is  blurred.  The  one  vague  idea  of  war  covers 
a  multitude  of  miseries  from  our  sight,  and  ob- 
scures our  sense  of  reality.  The  idea  of  the 
nation  is  responsible  for  crimes  that  would  be 
appalling,  if  the  mist  could  be  removed  for  a 
moment.  The  idea  of  society  has  created  forms 
of  slavery  without  number,  which  we  tolerate 
simply  because  it  has  deadened  our  consciousness 
of  the  reality  of  the  personal  man.  In  the  name 
of  religion  deeds  have  been  done  that  would 
exhaust  all  the  resources  of  hell  itself  for  punish- 
ment, because  with  its  creeds  and  dogmas  it 
has  applied  an  extensive  plaster  of  anaesthetic 
over  a  large  surface  of  feeling  humanity.  Every- 
where in  man's  world  the  Supreme  Person  is 
suffering  from  the  killing  of  the  human  reality 
by  the  imposition  of  the  abstract.  In  our  schools 
the  idea  of  the  class  hides  the  reality  of  the 
school    children ;  —  they    become    students    and 


52  PERSONALITY 

not  individuals.  Therefore  it  does  not  hurt  us 
to  see  children's  lives  crushed,  in  their  classes, 
like  flowers  pressed  between  book  leaves.  In 
government,  the  bureaucracy  deals  with  general- 
izations and  not  with  men.  And  therefore  it 
costs  it  nothing  to  indulge  in  wholesale  cruelties. 
Once  we  accept  as  truth  such  a  scientific  maxim 
as  "Survival  of  the  Fittest"  it  immediately 
transforms  the  whole  world  of  human  personality 
into  a  monotonous  desert  of  abstraction,  where 
things  become  dreadfully  simple  because  robbed 
of  their  mystery  of  life.  \s 

In  these  large  tracts  of  nebulousness  Art  is 
creating  its  stars,  —  stars  that  are  definite  in 
their  forms  but  infinite  in  their  personality. 
Art  is  calling  us  the  "children  of  the  immortal," 
and  proclaiming  our  right  to  the  dwelling  in  the 
heavenly  worlds. 

What  is  it  in  man  that  asserts  its  immortality 
in  spite  of  the  obvious  fact  of  death  ?  It  is  not 
his  physical  body  or  his  mental  organization.  It 
is  that  deeper  unity,  that  ultimate  mystery  in 
him,  which,  from  the  centre  of  his  world,  radiates 


WHAT   IS   ART  ?  53 

towards  its  circumference;  which  is  in  his  body, 
yet  transcends  his  body;  which  is  in  his  mind, 
yet  grows  beyond  his  mind;  which,  through 
the  things  belonging  to  him,  expresses  some- 
thing that  is  not  in  them ;  which,  while  occupy- 
ing his  present,  overflows  its  banks  of  the  past 
and  the  future.  It  is  the  personality  of  man, 
conscious  of  its  inexhaustible  abundance;  it 
has  the  paradox  in  it  that  it  is  more  than  itself; 
it  is  more  than  as  it  is  seen,  as  it  is  known,  as 
it  is  used.  And  this  consciousness  of  the  in- 
finite, in  the  personal  man,  ever  strives  to  make 
its  expressions  immortal  and  to  make  the  whole 
world  its  own.  In  Art  the  person  in  us  is  send- 
ing its  answers  to  the  Supreme  Person,  who  re- 
veals Himself  to  us  in  a  world  of  endless  beauty 
across  the  lightless  world  of  facts. 


THE  WORLD  OF  PERSONALITY 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY 

"The  night  is  like  a  dark  child  just  born  of 
her  mother  day.  Millions  of  stars  crowding 
round  its  cradle  watch  it,  standing  still,  afraid 
lest  it  should  wake  up." 

I  am  ready  to  go  on  in  this  strain,  but  I  am 
interrupted  by  Science  laughing  at  me.  She 
takes  objection  to  my  statement  that  stars  are 
standing  still. 

But  if  it  is  a  mistake,  then  apology  is  not  due 
from  me  but  from  those  stars  themselves.  It 
is  quite  evident  that  they  are  standing  still.  It 
is  a  fact  that  is  impossible  to  argue  away. 

But  science  will  argue,  it  is  her  habit.  She 
says,  "When  you  think  that  stars  are  still,  that 
only  proves  that  you  are  too  far  from  them." 

I  have  my  answer  ready,  that  when  you  say 
that  stars  are  rushing  about,  it  only  proves  that 
you  are  too  near  them. 

Science  is  astonished  at  my  temerity. 
57 


58  PERSONALITY 

But  I  obstinately  hold  my  ground  and  say 
that  if  Science  has  the  liberty  to  take  the  side 
of  the  near  and  fall  foul  of  the  distant,  she  cannot 
blame  me  when  I  take  the  opposite  side  and  ques- 
tion the  veracity  of  the  near. 

Science  is  emphatically  sure  that  the  near  view 
is  the  most  reliable  view. 

But  I  doubt  whether  she  is  consistent  in  her 
opinions.  For  when  I  was  sure  that  the  earth 
was  flat  under  my  feet,  she  corrected  me  by  say- 
ing that  the  near  view  was  not  the  correct  view, 
that  to  get  at  the  complete  truth  it  is  necessary 
to  see  it  from  a  distance. 

I  am  willing  to  agree  with  her.  For  do 
we  not  know  that  a  too  near  view  of  ourselves 
is  the  egotistical  view,  which  is  the  flat  and  the 
detached  view  —  but  that  when  we  see  ourselves 
in  others,  we  find  that  the  truth  about  us  is  round 
and  continuous  ? 

But  if  Science  at  all  has  faith  in  the  whole- 
someness  of  distance  then  she  must  give  up  her 
superstition  about  the  restlessness  of  the  stars. 
We  the  children  of  the  earth  attend  our  night 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY       59 

school  to  have  a  glimpse  of  the  world  as  a  whole. 
Our  great  teacher  knows  that  the  complete  view 
of  the  universe  is  too  awful  for  our  sight,  as  is 
that  of  the  midday  sun.  It  is  necessary  to  see  it 
through  a  smoked  glass.  Kind  Nature  has  held 
before  our  eyes  the  smoked  glass  of  the  night 
and  of  the  distance.  And  what  do  we  see  through 
it  ?  We  see  that  the  world  of  stars  is  still.  For 
we  see  these  stars  in  their  relation  to  each  other, 
and  they  appear  to  us  like  chains  of  diamonds 
hanging  on  the  neck  of  some  god  of  silence.  But 
Astronomy  like  a  curious  child  plucks  out  an 
individual  star  from  that  chain  and  then  we  find 
it  rolling  about. 

The  difficulty  is  to  decide  whom  to  trust.  The 
evidence  of  the  world  of  stars  is  simple.  You 
have  but  to  raise  your  eyes  and  see  their  face 
and  you  believe  them.  They  do  not  set  before 
you  elaborate  arguments,  and  to  my  mind,  that 
is  the  surest  test  of  reliability.  They  do  not 
break  their  hearts  if  you  refuse  to  believe  them. 
But  when  some  one  of  these  stars  singly  comes 
down   from    the    platform   of   the    universe    and 


60  PERSONALITY 

slyly  whispers  its  information  into  the  ears  of 
mathematics,  we  find  the  whole  story  different. 

Therefore  let  us  boldly  declare  that  both  facts 
are  equally  true  about  the  stars.  Let  us  say 
that  they  are  unmoved  in  the  plane  of  the  dis- 
tant and  they  are  moving  in  the  plane  of  the  near. 
The  stars  in  their  one  relation  to  me  are  truly 
still  and  in  their  other  relation  are  truly  moving. 
The  distant  and  the  near  are  the  keepers  of  two 
different  sets  of  facts,  but  they  both  belong  to 
one  truth  which  is  their  master.  Therefore 
when  we  take  the  side  of  the  one  to  revile  the 
other,  we  hurt  the  truth  which  comprehends  them 
both. 

About  this  truth  the  Indian  sage  of  Ishopani- 
shat  says:  "It  moves.  It  moves  not.  It  is 
distant.     It   is    near." 

The  meaning  is,  when  we  follow  truth  in  its 
parts  which  are  near,  we  see  truth  moving.  When 
we  know  truth  as  a  whole,  which  is  looking  at 
it  from  a  distance,  it  remains  still.  As  we  follow 
a  book  in  its  chapters  the  book  moves,  but  when 
we  have  known  the  whole  book,  then  we  find  it 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      61 

standing  still,  holding  all  the  chapters  in  their 
interrelations. 

There  is  a  point  where  in  the  mystery  of  exist- 
ence contradictions  meet;  where  movement  is 
not  all  movement  and  stillness  is  not  all  stillness ; 
where  the  idea  and  the  form,  the  within  and  the 
without,  are  united ;  where  infinite  becomes 
finite,  yet  not  losing  its  infinity.  If  this  meeting 
is  dissolved,  then  things  become  unreal. 

When  I  see  a  rose  leaf  through  a  microscope, 
I  see  it  in  a  more  extended  space  than  it  usually 
occupies  for  me.  The  more  I  extend  the  space 
the  more  it  becomes  vague.  So  that  in  the  pure 
infinite  it  is  neither  rose-leaf  nor  anything  at  all. 
It  only  becomes  a  rose-leaf  where  the  infinite 
reaches  finitude  at  a  particular  point.  When 
we  disturb  that  point  towards  the  small  or  the 
great,  the  rose-leaf  begins  to  assume  unreality. 

It  is  the  same  with  regard  to  time.  If  by  some 
magic  I  could  remain  in  my  normal  plane  of  time 
while  enhancing  its  quickness  with  regard  to 
the  rose  leaf,  condensing,  let  us  say,  a  month 
into  a  minute,  then  it  would    rush   through  its 


62  PERSONALITY 

point  of  first  appearance  to  that  of  its  final  dis- 
appearance with  such  a  speed  that  I  would  hardly 
be  able  to  see  it.  One  can  be  sure  that  there 
are  things  in  this  world  which  are  known  by  other 
creatures,  but  which,  since  their  time  is  not 
synchronous  with  ours,  they  are  nothing  to  us. 
The  phenomenon  which  a  dog  perceives  as  a 
smell  does  not  keep  its  time  with  that  of  our 
nerves,  therefore  it  falls  outside  our  world. 

Let  me  give  an  instance.  We  have  heard  of 
prodigies  in  mathematics  who  can  do  difficult 
sums  in  an  incredibly  short  time.  With  regard 
to  mathematical  calculations  their  minds  are 
acting  in  a  different  plane  of  time,  not  only  from 
ours,  but  also  from  their  own  in  other  spheres 
of  life.  As  if  the  mathematical  part  of  their 
minds  is  living  in  a  comet,  while  the  other  parts 
are  the  inhabitants  of  this  earth.  Therefore 
the  process  through  which  their  minds  rush  into 
their  results  is  not  only  invisible  to  us,  it  is  not 
even  seen  by  themselves. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  often  our  dreams 
flow  in  a  measure  of  time  different  from  that  of 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      63 

our  waking  consciousness.  The  fifty  minutes 
of  our  sundial  of  dreamland  may  be  represented 
by  five  minutes  of  our  clock.  If  from  the  van- 
tage of  our  wakeful  time  we  could  watch  these 
dreams,  they  would  rush  past  us  like  an  express 
train.  Or  if  from  the  window  of  our  swift-flying 
dreams  we  could  watch  the  slower  world  of  our 
waking  consciousness,  it  would  seem  receding 
away  from  us  at  a  great  speed.  In  fact  if  the 
thoughts  that  move  in  other  minds  than  our 
own  were  open  to  us,  our  perception  of  them 
would  be  different  from  theirs,  owing  to  our 
difference  of  mental  time.  If  we  could  adjust 
our  focus  of  time  according  to  our  whims,  we 
would  see  the  waterfall  standing  still  and  the 
pine  forest  running  fast  like  the  waterfall  of 
a  green  Niagara. 

So  that  it  is  almost  a  truism  to  say  that  the 
world  is  what  we  perceive  it  to  be.  We  imagine 
that  our  mind  is  a  mirror,  that  it  is  more  or  less 
♦accurately  reflecting  what  is  happening  outside 
us.  On  the  contrary  our  mind  itself  is  the 
principal  element  of  creation.     The  world,  while 


64  PERSONALITY 

I  am  perceiving  it,  is  being  incessantly  created 
for  myself  in  time  and  space. 

The  variety  of  creation  is  owing  to  the  mind 
seeing  different  phenomena  in  different  foci  of 
time  and  space.  When  it  sees  stars  in  a  space 
which  may  be  metaphorically  termed  as  dense, 
then  they  are  close  to  each  other  and  motionless. 
When  it  sees  planets,  it  sees  them  in  much  less 
density  of  sky  and  then  they  appear  far  apart 
and  moving.  If  we  could  have  the  sight  to  see 
the  molecules  of  a  piece  of  iron  in  a  greatly  dif- 
ferent space,  they  could  be  seen  in  movement. 
But  because  we  see  things  in  various  adjustments 
of  time  and  space  therefore  iron  is  iron,  water 
is  water,  and  clouds  are  clouds  for  us. 

It  is  a  well-known  psychological  fact  that  by 
adjustment  of  our  mental  attitude  things  seem 
to  change  their  properties,  and  objects  that  were 
pleasurable  become  painful  to  us  and  vice  versa. 
Under  a  certain  state  of  exultation  of  mind  mor- 
tification of  the  flesh  has  been  resorted  to  by 
men  to  give  them  pleasure.  Instances  of  extreme 
martyrdom    seem    to    us    superhuman    because 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      65 

the  mental  attitude  under  the  influence  of  which 
they  become  possible,  even  desirable,  has  not 
been  experienced  by  us.  In  India,  cases  of  fire 
walking  have  been  observed  by  many,  though 
they  have  not  been  scientifically  investigated. 
There  may  be  differences  of  opinion  about  the 
degree  of  efficacy  of  faith  cure,  showing  the  influ- 
ence of  mind  upon  matter,  but  its  truth  has 
been  accepted  and  acted  upon  by  men  from  the 
early  dawn  of  history.  The  methods  of  our 
moral  training  have  been  based  upon  the  fact 
that  by  changing  our  mental  focus,  our  perspec- 
tive, the  whole  world  is  changed  and  becomes  in 
certain  respects  a  different  creation,  with  things  of 
changed  value.  Therefore  what  is  valuable  to  a 
man  when  he  is  bad  becomes  worse  than  valueless 
when  he  is  good. 

Walt  Whitman  shows  a  great  dexterity  in  his 
poems  in  changing  his  position  of  mind  and  thus 
changing  his  world  with  him  from  that  of  other 
peoples,  rearranging  the  meaning  of  things  in 
different  proportions  and  forms.  Such  mobility 
of  mind  plays  havoc  with  things  whose  founda- 


66  PERSONALITY 

tions  lie  fixed  in  convention.     Therefore  he  says 
in  one  of  his  poems : 

"I  hear  that  it  was  charged  against  me  that  I 
sought   to   destroy   institutions; 

But  really  I  am  neither  for  nor  against  insti- 
tutions ; 

(What  indeed  have  I  in  common  with  them  — 

Or  what  with  the  destruction  of  them  ?) 

Only  I  will  establish  in  thee  Mannahatta,  and 
in  every  city  of  these  States,  inland  and 
seaboard, 

And  in  the  fields  and  woods,  and  above  every 
keel,  little  or  large,  that  dents  the  water, 

Without  edifices,  or  rules,  or  trustees  or  any 
argument, 

This  institution  of  dear  love  of  comrades." 

Institutions  which  are  so  squarely  built,  so 
solid  and  thick  become  like  vapour  in  this  poet's 
world.  It  is  like  a  world  of  Rontgen  rays,  for 
which  some  of  the  solid  things  of  the  world  have 
no  existence  whatever.  On  the  other  hand  love 
of  comrades,  which  is  a  fluid  thing  in  the  ordinary 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      67 

world,  which  seems  like  clouds  that  pass  and 
repass  the  sky  without  leaving  a  trace  of  a  track, 
is  to  the  poet's  world  more  stable  than  all  insti- 
tutions. Here  he  sees  things  in  a  time  in  which 
the  mountains  pass  away  like  shadows,  but  the 
rainclouds  with  their  seeming  transitoriness  are 
eternal.  He  perceives  in  his  world  that  this  love 
of  comrades,  like  clouds  that  require  no  solid 
foundation,  is  stable  and  true,  is  established 
without  edifices,  rules,  trustees  or  arguments. 

When  the  mind  of  a  person  like  Walt  Whit- 
man moves  in  a  time  different  from  that  of  others, 
his  world  does  not  necessarily  come  to  ruin 
through  dislocation,  because  there  in  the  centre 
of  his  world  dwells  his  own  personality.  All  the 
facts  and  shapes  of  this  world  are  related  to  this 
central  creative  power,  therefore  they  become  in- 
terrelated spontaneously.  His  world  may  be  like 
a  comet  among  stars,  different  in  its  movements 
from  others,  but  it  has  its  own  consistency  because 
of  the  central  personal  force.  It  may  be  a  bold 
world  or  even  a  mad  world,  with  an  immense 
orbit  swept  by  its  eccentric  tail,  yet  it  is  a  world. 


68  PERSONALITY 

But  with  science  it  is  different.  For  she  tries 
to  do  away  altogether  with  that  central  personal- 
ity, in  relation  to  which  the  world  is  a  world. 
Science  sets  up  an  impersonal  and  unalterable 
standard  of  space  and  time  which  is  not  the 
standard  of  creation.  Therefore  at  its  fatal  touch 
the  reality  of  the  world  is  so  hopelessly  disturbed 
that  it  vanishes  in  an  abstraction  where  things 
become  nothing  at  all.  For  the  world  is  not 
atoms  and  molecules  or  radio-activity  or  other 
forces,  the  diamond  is  not  carbon,  and  light  is 
not  vibrations  of  ether.  You  can  never  come 
to  the  reality  of  creation  by  contemplating  it 
from  the  point  of  view  of  destruction.  Not 
only  the  world  but  God  himself  is  divested  of 
reality  by  Science,  which  subjects  him  to  analysis 
in  the  laboratory  of  reason  outside  our  personal 
relationship  and  then  describes  the  result  as  un- 
known and  unknowable.  It  is  a  mere  tautology 
to  say  that  God  is  unknowable,  when  we  leave 
altogether  out  of  account  the  person  who  can 
and  who  does  know  him.  It  is  the  same  thing 
as  saying  that  food  is  uneatable  when  the  eater 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      69 

is  absent.  Our  dry  moralists  also  play  the  same 
tricks  with  us  in  order  to  wean  away  our  hearts 
from  their  desired  objects.  Instead  of  creating 
for  us  a  world  in  which  moral  ideals  find  their 
natural  places  in  beauty  they  begin  to  wreck  the 
world  that  we  have  built  ourselves,  however  im- 
perfectly. They  put  moral  maxims  in  the  place 
of  human  personality  and  give  us  the  view  of 
things  in  their  dissolution  to  prove  that  behind 
their  appearances  they  are  hideous  deceptions. 
But  when  you  deprive  truth  of  its  appearance, 
it  loses  the  best  part  of  its  reality.  For  appear- 
ance is  a'  personal  relationship  ;  it  is  for  me.  Of 
this  appearance,  which  seems  to  be  of  the  sur- 
face, but  which  carries  the  message  of  the  inner 
spirit,  your  poet  has  said : 

"Beginning  my  studies,  the  first  step  pleased 
me    so    much, 

The  mere  fact,  consciousness  —  these  forms  — 
the    power   of   motion 

The  least  insect  or  animal  —  the  senses  —  eye- 
sight —  love ; 


70  PERSONALITY 

The  first  step,  I  say,  aw'd  me  and  pleased  me  so 

much, 
I  have  hardly  gone,  and  hardly  wished  to  go, 

any  farther, 
But  stop   and  loiter  all  the  time,  and  sing  it 

in  ecstatic   songs." 

Our  scientific  world  is  our  world  of  reasoning. 
It  has  its  greatness  and  uses  and  attractions.  We 
are  ready  to  pay  the  homage  due  to  it.  But 
when  it  claims  to  have  discovered  the  real  world 
for  us  and  laughs  at  the  worlds  of  all  simple- 
minded  men,  then  we  must  say  it  is  like  a  general 
grown  intoxicated  of  his  power,  usurping  the 
throne  of  his  king.  For  the  reality  of  the  world 
belongs  to  the  personality  of  man  and  not  to 
reasoning,  which  is  useful  and  great  but  which  is 
not  the  man  himself. 

If  we  could  fully  know  what  a  piece  of 
music  was  in  Beethoven's  mind,  we  could  our- 
selves become  so  many  Beethovens.  But  be- 
cause we  cannot  grasp  its  mystery,  we  may 
altogether   distrust   the   element   of   Beethoven's 


THE   WORLD   OF    PERSONALITY       71 

personality  in  his  Sonata  —  though  we  are  fully 
aware  that  its  true  value  lies  in  its  power  of  touch- 
ing the  depth  of  our  own  personality.  But  it  is 
simpler  to  keep  observation  of  the  facts  when  that 
sonata  is  played  upon  the  piano.  We  can  count 
the  black  and  white  keys  of  the  keyboard,  meas- 
ure the  relative  lengths  of  the  strings,  the  strength, 
velocity  and  order  of  sequence  in  the  movements 
of  fingers  and  triumphantly  assert  that  this  is 
Beethoven's  Sonata.  Not  only  so,  we  can  pre- 
dict the  accurate  production  of  the  same  sonata 
wherever  and  whenever  our  experiment  is  re- 
peated according  to  those  observations.  By 
constantly  dealing  with  the  sonata  from  this 
point  of  view  we  may  forget  that  both  in  its 
origin  and  object  dwell  the  personality  of  man, 
and  however  accurate  and  orderly  may  be  the 
facts  of  the  interactions  of  the  fingers  and  strings 
they  do  not  comprehend  the  ultimate  reality  of 
the  music. 

A  game  is  a  game  where  there  is  a  player  to 
play  it.  Of  course,  there  is  a  law  of  the  game 
which  it  is  of  use  to  us  to  analyze  and  to  master. 


72  PERSONALITY 

But  if  it  be  asserted  that  in  this  law  is  its  reality, 
then  we  cannot  accept  it.  For  the  game  is  what 
it  is  to  the  players.  The  game  changes  its  as- 
pects according  to  the  personality  of  its  players : 
for  some  its  end  is  the  lust  of  gain,  in  others 
that  of  applause ;  some  find  in  it  the  means  for 
whiling  away  time  and  some  the  means  for 
satisfying  their  social  instinct,  and  there  are 
others  who  approach  it  in  the  spirit  of  disinter- 
ested curiosity  for  studying  its  secrets.  Yet  all 
through  its  manifold  aspects  its  law  remains  the 
same.  For  the  nature  of  Reality  is  the  varied- 
ness  of  its  unity.  And  the  world  is  like  this 
game  to  us  —  it  is  the  same  and  yet  it  is  not 
the  same  to  us  all. 

Science  deals  with  this  element  of  sameness, 
the  law  of  perspective  and  colour  combination, 
and  not  with  the  pictures  —  the  pictures  which 
are  the  creations  of  a  personality  and  which 
appeal  to  the  personality  of  those  who  see  them. 
Science  does  it  by  eliminating  from  its  field  of  re- 
search the  personality  of  creation  and  fixing  its 
attention  only  upon  the  medium  of  creation. 


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THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      73 

What  is  this  medium  ?  It  is  the  medium  of 
finitude  which  the  Infinite  Being  sets  before  him 
for  the  purpose  of  his  self-expression.  It  is  the 
medium  which  represents  his  self-imposed  limi- 
tations —  the  law  of  space  and  time,  of  form  and 
movement.  This  law  is  Reason,  which  is  uni- 
versal —  Reason  which  guides  the  endless  rhythm 
of  the  creative  idea,  perpetually  manifesting  it- 
self in  its  ever  changing  forms. 

Our  individual  minds  are  the  strings  which 
catch  the  rhythmic  vibrations  of  this  universal 
mind  and  respond  in  music  of  space  and  time. 
The  quality  and  number  and  pitch  of  our  mind 
strings  differ  and  their  tuning  has  not  yet  come  to 
its  perfection,  but  their  law  is  the  law  of  the 
universal  mind  which  is  the  instrument  of  fini- 
tude upon  which  the  Eternal  Player  plays  his 
dance  music  of  creation. 

Because  of  the  mind  instruments  which  we  pos- 
sess we  also  have  found  our  place  as  creators. 
We  create  not  only  art  and  social  organizations, 
but  our  inner  nature  and  outer  surroundings,  the 
truth  of  which  depends  upon  their  harmony  with 


74  PERSONALITY 

the  law  of  the  universal  mind.  Of  course,  our 
creations  are  mere  variations  upon  God's  great 
theme  of  the  universe.  When  we  produce  dis- 
cords, they  either  have  to  end  in  a  harmony  or  in 
silence.  Our  freedom  as  a  creator  finds  its 
highest  joy  in  contributing  its  own  voice  in  the 
concert  of  the  world-music. 

Science  is  apprehensive  of  the  poet's  sanity. 
She  refuses  to  accept  the  paradox  of  the  infinite 
assuming  finitude. 

I  have  nothing  to  say  in  my  defence  except  that 
this  paradox  is  much  older  than  I  am.  It  is  the 
paradox  that  is  at  the  root  of  existence.  It  is  as 
mysterious  yet  as  simple  as  the  fact  that  I  am 
aware  of  this  wall  which  is  a  miracle  that  can  never 
be  explained. 

Let  me  go  back  to  the  sage  of  Ishopanishat  and 
hear  what  he  says  about  the  contradiction  of 
the  infinite  and  the  finite.     He  says  : 

"They  enter  the  region  of  the  dark  who  are 
solely  occupied  with  the  knowledge  of  the  finite, 
and  they  into  a  still  greater  darkness  who  are  solely 
occupied  with  the  knowledge  of  the  infinite." 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      75 

Those  who  pursue  the  knowledge  of  finite 
for  its  own  sake  cannot  find  truth.  For  it  is  a 
dead  wall  obstructing  the  beyond.  This  knowl- 
edge merely  accumulates  but  does  not  illuminate. 
It  is  like  a  lamp  without  its  light,  a  violin  without 
its  music.  You  cannot  know  a  book  by  meas- 
uring and  weighing  and  counting  its  pages,  by 
analyzing  its  paper.  An  inquisitive  mouse  may 
gnaw  through  the  wooden  frame  of  a  piano,  may 
cut  all  its  strings  to  pieces  and  yet  travel  farther 
and  farther  away  from  the  music.  This  is  the 
pursuit  of  the  finite  for  its  own  sake. 

But  according  to  the  Upanishat  the  sole  pur- 
suit of  the  infinite  leads  to  a  deeper  darkness. 
For  the  absolute  infinite  is  emptiness.  The 
finite  is  something.  It  may  be  a  mere  cheque- 
book with  no  account  in  the  bank.  But  the  ab- 
solute infinite  has  no  cash  and  not  even  a  cheque- 
book. Profound  may  be  the  mental  darkness 
of  the  primitive  man  who  lives  in  the  conviction 
that  each  individual  apple  falls  to  the  ground 
according  to  some  individual  caprice,  but  it  is 
nothing  compared  to  the  blindness  of  him  who 


76  PERSONALITY 

lives  in  the  meditation  of  the  law  of  gravitation 
which  has  no  apple  or  anything  else  that  falls. 

Therefore  Ishopanishat  in  the  following  verse 
says : 

"He  who  knows  that  the  knowledge  of  the  finite 
and  the  infinite  is  combined  in  one,  crosses  death 
by  the  help  of  the  knowledge  of  the  finite  and 
achieves  immortality  by  the  help  of  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  infinite." 

The  infinite  and  the  finite  are  one  as  song  and 
singing.  The  singing  is  incomplete;  by  a  con- 
tinual process  of  death  it  gives  up  the  song  which 
is  complete.  The  absolute  infinite  is  like  a  music 
which  is  devoid  of  all  definite  tunes  and  there- 
fore meaningless. 

The  absolute  eternal  is  timelessness,  and  that 
has  no  meaning  at  all, —  it  is  merely  a  word. 
The  reality  of  the  eternal  is  there,  where  it  con- 
tains all  times  in  itself. 

Therefore  Upanishat  says :  "They  enter  the 
region  of  darkness  who  pursue  the  transitory. 
But  they  enter  the  region  of  still  greater  dark- 
ness  who   pursue    the   eternal.     He   who   knows 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      77 

the  transitory  and  the  eternal  combined  together 
crosses  the  steps  of  death  by  the  help  of  the 
transitory  and  reaches  immortality  by  the  help 
of  the  eternal." 

We  have  seen  that  forms  of  things  and  their 
changes  have  no  absolute  reality  at  all.  Their 
truth  dwells  in  our  personality,  and  only  there 
it  is  real  and  not  abstract.  We  have  seen  that  a 
mountain  and  a  waterfall  would  become  something 
else,  or  nothing  at  all  to  us,  if  our  movement  of 
mind  changed  in  time  and  space. 

We  have  also  seen  that  this  relational  world  of 
ours  is  not  arbitrary.  It  is  individual,  yet  it  is 
universal.  My  world  is  mine,  its  element  is  my 
mind,  yet  is  not  wholly  unlike  your  world.  There- 
fore it  is  not  in  my  own  individual  personality 
that  this  reality  is  contained,  but  in  an  infinite 
personality. 

When  in  its  place  we  substitute  law,  then  the 
whole  world  crumbles  into  abstractions;  then  it 
is  elements  and  force,  eons  and  electrons;  it 
loses  its  appearance,  its  touch  and  taste;  the 
world    drama   with    its    language    of    beauty    is 


78  PERSONALITY 

hushed,  the  music  is  silent,  the  stage  mechanism 
becomes  a  ghost  of  itself  in  the  dark,  an  unim- 
aginable shadow  of  nothing,  standing  before  no 
spectator. 

In  this   connection   I   quote   once   again  your 
poet-seer,  Walt  Whitman  : 

"When  I  heard  the  learned  astronomer, 
When  the  proofs,  the  figures,    were    ranged   in 

columns  before  me, 
When  I  was  shown  the  charts  and  diagrams,  to 

add,  divide  and  measure  them, 
When  I  sitting  heard  the  astronomer  where  he 

lectured  with  much  applause  in  the  lecture 

room, 
How  soon  unaccountably  I  became  tired  and  sick, 
Till  rising  and  gliding  out  I  wandered   off   by 

myself, 
In  the  mystical  moist  night-air,  and  from  time 

to  time, 
Looked  up  in  perfect  silence  at  the  stars." 

The  prosody  of  the  stars  can  be  explained  in 
the  class  room  by  diagrams,  but  the   poetry   of 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      79 

the  stars  is  in  the  silent  meeting  of  soul  with 
soul,  at  the  confluence  of  the  light  and  the  dark, 
where  the  infinite  prints  its  kiss  on  the  forehead 
of  the  finite,  where  we  can  hear  the  music  of  the 
Great  I  AM  peeling  from  the  grand  organ  of  crea- 
tion through  its  countless  reeds  in  endless  har- 
mony. It  is  perfectly  evident  that  the  world 
is  movement.  (The  Sanskrit  word  for  the  world 
means  "  the  moving  one.")  All  its  forms  are  tran- 
sitory, but  that  is  merely  its  negative  side.  All 
through  its  changes  it  has  a  chain  of  relationship 
which  is  eternal.  In  a  story-book  the  sentences 
run  on,  but  the  positive  element  of  the  book  is 
the  relation  of  the  sentences  in  the  story.  This 
relation  reveals  a  will  of  personality  in  its  author 
which  establishes  its  harmony  with  the  person- 
ality of  the  reader.  If  the  book  were  a  collection 
of  disjointed  words  of  no  movement  and  mean- 
ing, then  we  would  be  justified  in  saying  that  it 
was  a  product  of  chance  and  then  it  would  have 
no  response  from  the  personality  of  the  reader. 
In  the  like  manner  all  through  its  changes  the 
world  is  not  a  mere  runaway  evasion  to  us,  and 


80  PERSONALITY 

because  of  its  movements  it  reveals  to  us  some- 
thing which  is  eternal. 

For  revealment  of  idea,  form  is  absolutely 
necessary.  But  the  idea  which  is  infinite  cannot 
be  expressed  in  forms  which  are  absolutely  finite. 
Therefore  forms  must  always  move  and  change, 
they  must  necessarily  die  to  reveal  the  deathless. 
The  expression  as  expression  has  to  be  definite, 
which  can  only  be  in  its  form;  but  at  the  same 
time,  as  the  expression  of  the  infinite,  it  has  to  be 
indefinite,  which  can  only  be  in  its  movement. 
Therefore  when  the  world  takes  its  shape  it  always 
transcends  its  shape;  it  carelessly  runs  out  of 
itself  to  say  that  its  meaning  is  more  than  what 
it  can  contain. 

The  moralist  sadly  shakes  his  head  and  says 
that  this  world  is  vanity.  But  that  vanity  is 
not  vacuity  —  truth  is  in  that  vainness  itself. 
If  the  world  remained  still  and  became  final,  then 
it  would  be  a  prison  house  of  orphaned  facts  that 
had  lost  their  freedom  of  truth,  the  truth  that  is 
infinite.  Therefore  what  the  modern  thinker 
says  is  true  in  this  sense,  that  in  movement  lies 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY       81 

the  meaning  of  all  things  —  because  the  meaning 
does  not  entirely  rest  in  the  things  themselves 
but  in  that  which  is  indicated  by  their  outgrow- 
ing of  their  limits.  This  is  what  Isha  Upanishat 
means  when  it  says  that  neither  the  transitory  nor 
the  eternal  has  any  meaning  separately.  When 
they  are  known  in  harmony  with  each  other,  only 
then  through  its  own  help  we  cross  the  transitory 
and  realize  the  immortal. 

Because  this  world  is  the  world  of  infinite 
personality  it  is  the  object  of  our  life  to  establish 
a  perfect  and  personal  relationship  with  it,  is  the 
teaching  of  Isha  Upanishat.  Therefore  it  begins 
with  the  following  verse  : 

Know  that  all  that  moves  in  this  moving  world 
is  held  by  the  infinity  of  God ;  and  enjoy  by  that 
which  he  renounces.  Desire  not  after  other 
possessions. 

That  is  to  say,  we  have  to  know  that  these 
world  movements  are  not  mere  blind  movements, 
they  are  related  to  the  will  of  a  Supreme  Person. 
But  a  mere  knowledge  of  truth  is  imperfect  be- 
cause   impersonal.     But    enjoyment    is    personal 


82  PERSONALITY 

and  the  God  of  my  enjoyment  moves;  he  is  ac- 
tive ;  he  is  giving  himself.  In  this  act  of  giving 
the  infinite  has  taken  the  aspect  of  the  finite, 
therefore  become  real,  and  there  I  can  have  my 
joy  in  him. 

In  our  crucible  of  reason  the  world  of  appear- 
ance vanishes  and  we  call  it  illusion.  This  is  the 
negative  view.  But  our  enjoyment  is  positive. 
A  flower  is  nothing  when  we  analyze  it,  but  it  is 
positively  a  flower  when  we  enjoy  it.  This  joy 
is  real  because  it  is  personal.  And  perfect  truth 
is  only  known  perfectly  by  our  personality. 

And  therefore  Upanishat  has  said :  Mind 
comes  back  baffled  and  words  also.  But  he  who 
realizes  the  joy  of  Brahma  fears  nothing. 

The  following  is  the  translation  of  another 
verse  in  which  Ishopanishat  deals  with  the 
passive  and  the  active  aspects  of  the  infinite : 

"He  who  is  without  a  stain,  without  a  body, 
and  therefore  without  bodily  injury  or  bodily 
organs  of  strength,  without  mixture  and  without 
any  touch  of  evil  enters  into  everywhere.  He 
who  is  the  poet,  the  ruler  of  mind,  the  all-be- 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      83 

coming,  the  self-born,  dispenses  perfect  fulfilment 
to  the  endless  years." 

Brahma,  in  his  negative  qualities,  is  quiescent. 
Brahma,  in  his  positive  qualities,  acts  upon  all 
time.  He  is  the  poet,  he  uses  mind  as  his  instru- 
ment, he  reveals  himself  in  limits,  the  revelation 
which  comes  out  of  his  abundance  of  joy  and  not 
from  any  outside  necessity.  Therefore  it  is  he 
who  can  fulfil  our  needs  through  endless  years 
by  giving  himself. 

From  this  we  find  our  ideal.  Perpetual  giving 
up  is  the  truth  of  life.  The  perfection  of  this 
is  our  life's  perfection.  We  are  to  make  this 
life  our  poem  in  all  its  expressions  ;  it  must  be  fully 
suggestive  of  our  soul  which  is  infinite,  not  merely 
of  our  possessions  which  have  no  meaning  in 
themselves.  The  consciousness  of  the  infinite 
in  us  proves  itself  by  our  joy  in  giving  ourselves 
out  of  our  abundance.  And  then  our  work  is 
the  process  of  our  renunciation,  it  is  one  with 
our  life.  It  is  like  the  flowing  of  the  river,  which 
is  the  river  itself. 

Let  us  live.     Let  us  have  the  true  joy  of  life, 


84  PERSONALITY 

which  is  the  joy  of  the  poet  in  pouring  himself 
out  in  his  poem.  Let  us  express  our  infinity  in 
everything  round  us,  in  works  we  do,  in  things 
we  use,  in  men  with  whom  we  deal,  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  world  with  which  we  are  surrounded. 
Let  our  soul  permeate  our  surroundings  and 
create  itself  in  all  things,  and  show  its  fulness  by 
fulfilling  needs  of  all  times.  This  life  of  ours 
has  been  filled  with  the  gifts  of  the  divine  giver. 
The  stars  have  sung  to  it,  it  has  been  blessed  with 
the  daily  blessing  of  the  morning  light,  the  fruits 
have  been  sweet  to  it,  and  the  earth  has  spread 
its  carpet  of  grass  so  that  it  may  have  its  rest. 
And  let  it  like  an  instrument  fully  break  out  in 
music  of  its  soul  in  response  to  the  touch  of  the 
infinite  soul. 

And  this  is  why  the  poet  of  the  Ishopanishat 
says : 

Doing  work  in  this  world  thou  shouldst  wish 
to  live  a  hundred  years.  Thus  it  is  with  thee 
and  not  otherwise.  Let  not  the  work  of  man  cling 
to  him. 

Only  by  living  life  fully  can  you  outgrow  it. 


V 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      85 

When  the  fruit  has  served  its  full  term,  drawing 
its  juice  from  the  branch,  dancing  with  the  wind 
and  maturing  in  the  sun,  then  it  feels  in  its  core 
the  call  of  the  beyond  and  becomes  ready  for  its 
career  of  a  wider  life.  But  the  wisdom  of  living 
is  in  that  which  gives  you  the  power  to  give  it 
up.  For  death  is  the  gate  of  immortality. 
Therefore  it  is  said,  Do  your  work,  but  let  not 
your  work  cling  to  you.  For  the  work  expresses 
your  life  so  long  as  it  flows  with  it,  but  when  it 
clings,  then  it  impedes,  then  it  shows,  not  the  life, 
but  itself.  Then  like  the  sands  carried  by  the 
stream  it  chokes  the  soul-current.  Activity  of 
limbs  is  in  the  nature  of  physical  life ;  but  when 
limbs  move  in  convulsion,  then  the  movements 
are  not  in  harmony  with  life,  and  then  they  are 
a  disease,  like  works  that  cling  to  a  man  and 
kill  his  soul. 

No,  we  must  not  slay  our  souls.  We  must 
not  forget  that  life  is  here  to  express  the  eternal 
in  us.  If  we  smother  our  consciousness  of  the 
infinite  either  by  slothfulness  or  by  passionate 
pursuit  of  things  that  have  no  freedom  of  great- 


86  PERSONALITY 

ness  in  them,  then  like  the  fruit  whose  seed  has 
become  dead  we  go  back  into  the  primal  gloom 
of  the  realm  of  the  unformed.  Life  is  perpetual 
creation ;  it  has  its  truth  when  it  outgrows  itself 
in  the  infinite.  But  when  it  stops  and  accu- 
mulates and  turns  back  to  itself,  when  it  has  lost 
its  outlook  upon  the  beyond,  then  it  must  die. 
Then  it  is  dismissed  from  the  world  of  growth 
and  with  all  its  heaps  of  belongings  crumbles  into 
the  dust  of  dissolution.  Of  them  Isha  Upanishat 
has  said,  "Those  who  slay  their  souls  pass 
from  hence  to  the  gloom  of  the  sunless  world." 

The  question,  "What  is  this  soul?"  has  thus 
been  answered  by  the  Isha  Upanishat : 

It  is  one,  and  though  unmoving  is  swifter  than 
mind;  organs  of  sense  cannot  reach  it;  while 
standing  it  progresses  beyond  others  that  run; 
in  it  the  life  inspiration  maintains  the  fluid  forces 
of  life. 

The  mind  has  its  limitations,  the  sense  organs 
are  severally  occupied  with  things  that  are  before 
them,  but  there  is  a  spirit  of  oneness  in  us  which 
goes  beyond  the  thoughts  of  its  mind,  the  move- 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      87 

ments  of  its  bodily  organs,  which  carries  whole 
eternity  in  its  present  moment,  because  of  whose 
presence  the  life  inspiration  ever  urges  the  life 
forces  onward.  Because  we  are  conscious  of  this 
One  in  us  which  is  more  than  all  its  belongings, 
which  outlives  the  death  of  its  moments,  we  can- 
not believe  that  it  can  die.  Because  it  is  one, 
because  it  is  more  than  its  parts,  because  it  is 
continual  survival,  perpetual  overflow,  we  feel  it 
beyond  all  boundaries  of  death. 

This  consciousness  of  oneness  beyond  all  bound- 
aries is  the  consciousness  of  soul.  And  of  this  soul 
Isha  Upanishat  has  said :  It  moves.  It  moves 
not.  It  is  in  the  distant.  It  is  in  the  near.  It 
is  within  all.     It  is  outside  all. 

This  is  knowing  the  soul  across  the  boundaries 
of  the  near  and  the  distant,  of  the  within  and  the 
without.  I  have  known  this  wonder  of  wonders, 
this  one  in  myself  which  is  the  centre  of  all 
reality  for  me.  But  I  cannot  stop  here.  I  can- 
not say  that  it  exceeds  all  boundaries,  yet  it  is 
bounded  by  myself.  Therefore  Isha  Upanishat 
says: 


88  PERSONALITY 

"He  who  sees  all  things  in  the  soul  and  the  soul 
in  all  things  is  nevermore  hidden." 

We  are  hidden  in  ourselves,  like  a  truth  hidden 
in  isolated  facts.  When  we  know  that  this  One  in 
us  is  One  in  all,  then  our  truth  is  revealed. 

But  this  knowledge  of  the  unity  of  soul  must 
not  be  an  abstraction.  It  is  not  that  negative 
kind  of  universalism  which  belongs  neither  to  one 
nor  to  another.  It  is  not  an  abstract  soul,  but  it 
is  my  own  soul  which  I  must  realize  in  others.  I 
must  know  that  if  my  soul  were  singularly  mine, 
then  it  could  not  be  true,  at  the  same  time  if  it 
were  not  intimately  mine,  it  would  not  be  real. 

Through  the  help  of  logic  we  never  could  have 
arrived  at  the  truth  that  the  soul  which  is  the 
unifying  principle  in  me  finds  its  perfection  in  its 
unity  in  others.  We  have  known  it  through  the  joy 
of  this  truth.  Our  delight  is  in  realizing  ourselves 
outside  us.  When  I  love,  in  other  words,  when  I 
feel  I  am  truer  in  some  one  else  than  myself,  then 
I  am  glad,  for  the  One  in  me  realizes  its  truth  of 
unity  by  uniting  with  others  and  there  is  its  joy. 

Therefore  the  spirit  of  One  in  God  must  have  the 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      89 

many  for  the  realization  of  the  unity.  And  God 
is  giving  himself  in  love  to  all.  Isha  Upanishat 
says,  "Thou  shouldst  enjoy  what  God  is  re- 
nouncing." He  is  renouncing ;  and  I  have  my  joy 
when  I  feel  that  he  is  renouncing  himself.  For 
this  joy  of  mine  is  the  joy  of  love  which  comes 
of  the  renouncing  of  myself  in  him. 

Where  Isha  Upanishat  teaches  us  to  enjoy  God's 
renunciation  it  says,  Desire  not  after  other  man's 
possessions. 

For  desire  is  hindrance  to  love.  It  is  the 
movement  towards  the  opposite  direction  of  truth, 
towards  the  illusion  that  self  is  our  final  object. 

Therefore  the  realization  of  our  soul  has  its 
moral  side  and  its  spiritual.  The  moral  side 
represents  training  of  unselfishness,  control  of  de- 
sire; the  spiritual  side  represents  sympathy  and 
love.  They  should  be  taken  together  and  never 
separated.  The  cultivation  of  the  merely  moral 
side  of  our  nature  leads  us  to  the  dark  region  of 
narrowness  and  hardness  of  heart,  to  the  intoler- 
ant arrogance  of  goodness;  and  the  cultivation 
of  the  merely  spiritual  side  of  nature  leads  us  to 


90  PERSONALITY 

a  still  darker  region  of  revelry  in  intemperance  of 
imagination.  ^ 

By  following  the  poet  of  Isha  Upanishat  we  have 
come  to  the  meaning  of  all  reality,  where  the 
infinite  is  giving  himself  out  through  finitude. 
Reality  is  the  expression  of  personality,  like  a 
poem,  like  a  work  of  art.  The  Supreme  Being  is 
giving  himself  in  his  world  and  I  am  making  it 
mine,  like  a  poem  which  I  realize  by  finding  my- 
self in  it.  If  my  own  personality  leaves  the  centre 
of  my  world,  then  in  a  moment  it  loses  all  its  attri- 
butes. From  this  I  know  that  my  world  exists  in 
relation  to  me,  and  I  know  that  it  has  been  given 
to  the  personal  me  by  a  personal  being.  The 
process  of  the  giving  can  be  classified  and  gen- 
eralized by  science,  but  not  the  gift.  For  the  gift 
is  the  soul  unto  the  soul,  therefore  it  can  only  be 
realized  by  the  soul  in  joy,  not  analyzed  by  the 
reason  in  logic. 

Therefore  the  one  cry  of  the  personal  man 
has  been  to  know  the  Supreme  Person.  From  the 
beginning  of  his  history  man  has  been  feeling  the 
touch  of  personality  in  all  creation,  and  trying  to 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      91 

give  it  names  and  forms,  weaving  it  in  legends 
round  his  life  and  the  life  of  his  races,  offering  it 
worship  and  establishing  relations  with  it  through 
countless  forms  of  ceremonials.  This  feeling  of 
the  touch  of  personality  has  given  the  centrif- 
ugal impulse  in  man's  heart  to  break  out  in  a 
ceaseless  flow  of  reaction,  in  songs  and  pictures 
and  poems,  in  images  and  temples  and  festivities. 
This  has  been  the  centripetal  force  which  at- 
tracted men  into  groups  and  clans  and  com- 
munal organizations.  And  while  man  tills  his 
soil  and  spins  his  cloths,  mates  and  rears  his 
children,  toils  for  wealth  and  fights  for  power 
he  does  not  forget  to  proclaim  in  languages  of 
solemn  rhythm,  in  mysterious  symbols,  in  struc- 
tures of  majestic  stone  that  in  the  heart  of  his 
world  he  has  met  the  Immortal  Person.  In  the 
sorrow  of  death,  and  suffering  of  despair,  when 
trust  has  been  betrayed  and  love  desecrated, 
when  existence  becomes  tasteless  and  unmeaning, 
man  standing  upon  the  ruins  of  his  hopes  stretches 
his  hands  to  the  heavens  to  feel  the  touch  of  the 
Person  across  his  darkened  world. 


92  PERSONALITY 

Man  has  also  known  direct  communication  of 
the  person  with  the  Person,  not  through  the  world 
of  forms  and  changes,  the  world  of  extension  in 
time  and  space,  but  in  the  innermost  solitude 
of  consciousness,  in  the  region  of  the  profound 
and  the  intense.  Through  this  meeting  he  has 
felt  a  creation  of  a  new  world,  a  world  of  light 
and  love  that  has  no  language  but  of  music  of 
silence. 

Of  this  the  poet  has  sung : 

" There  is  an  endless  world,  O  my  Brother. 
And  there  is  a  nameless  Being  of  whom  nought 

can  be  said. 
Only  he  knows  who  has  reached  that  region : 
It  is  other  than  all  that  is  heard  and  said. 
No  form,  no  body,  no  length,  no  breadth,  is  seen 

there : 
How  can  I  tell  you  that  which  it  is  ? 
Kabir   says :    '  It   cannot  be  told  by   the  words 

of    the    mouth,    it    cannot    be    written    on 

paper : 
It  is  like  a  dumb   person   who   tastes   a   sweet 

thing  —  how  shall  it  be  explained.'" 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      93 

No,  it  cannot  be  explained,  it  has  to  be  realized ; 
and  when  man  has  done  so,  he  sings  : 

"The  inward  and  the  outward  has  become  as  one 
sky, 
The  infinite  and  the  finite  are  united : 
I  am  drunken  with  the    sight  of  this  All." 

The  poet  in  this  has  reached  Reality  which  is 
ineffable,  where  all  contradictions  have  been 
harmonized.  For  the  ultimate  reality  is  in  the 
Person  and  not  in  the  law  and  substance.  And 
man  must  feel  that  if  this  universe  is  not  the  mani- 
festation of  a  Supreme  Person,  then  it  is  a  stu- 
pendous deception  and  a  perpetual  insult  to  him. 
He  should  know  that  under  such  enormous  weight 
of  estrangement  his  own  personality  would  have 
been  crushed  out  of  its  shape  in  the  very  beginning 
and  have  vanished  in  the  meaninglessness  of  an 
abstraction  that  had  not  even  the  basis  of  a  mind 
for  its  conception. 

The  poet  of  Isha  Upanishat  at  the  end  of  his 
teachings  suddenly  breaks  out  in  a  verse  which 
in  the  depth  of  its  simplicity  carries  the  lyrical 


94  PERSONALITY 

silence  of  the  wide  earth  gazing  at  the  morning 
sun.     He  sings  : 

"In  the  golden  vessel  is  hidden  the  face  of  truth. 
O  thou  Giver  of  Nourishment,  remove  the  cover 
for  our  sight,  for  us  who  must  know  the  law  of 
truth.  O  thou  giver  of  nourishment,  thou  who 
movest  alone,  who  dost  regulate  the  creation, 
who  art  the  spirit  of  the  lord  of  all  creatures, 
collect  thy  rays,  draw  together  thy  light,  let  me 
behold  in  thee  the  most  blessed  of  all  forms,  — 
the  Person  who  is  there,  who  is  there,  he  is  I  Am." 

Then  at  the  conclusion  this  poet  of  deathless 
personality  thus  sings  of  death : 

"Life  breath  is  the  breath  of  immortality. 
The  body  ends  in  ashes.  O  my  will,  remember 
thy  deeds,  O  my  will,  remember  thy  deeds.  O 
God,  O  Fire,  thou  knowest  all  deeds.  Lead  us 
through  good  path  to  fulfilment.  Separate  from 
us  the  crooked  sin.  To  thee  we  offer  our  speech 
of  salutation." 

Here  stops  the  poet  of  Isha  Upanishat,  having 
travelled  from  life  to  death  and  from  death  to  life 
again ;    who  has  had  the  boldness  to  see  Brahma 


THE    WORLD    OF    PERSONALITY      95 

as  the  infinite  Being  and  the  finite  Becoming  at 
the  same  moment;  who  declares  that  life  is 
through  work,  the  work  that  expresses  the  soul; 
whose  teaching  is  to  realize  our  soul  in  the  Su- 
preme Being  through  our  renunciation  of  self  and 
union  with  all. 

The  profound  truth  to  which  the  poet  of  Isha 
Upanishat  has  given  expression  is  the  truth  of 
the  simple  mind  which  is  in  deep  love  with  the 
mystery  of  reality  and  cannot  believe  in  the 
finality  of  that  logic  which  by  its  method  of  de- 
composition brings  the  universe  to  the  brink  of 
dissolution. 
\J  Have  I  not  known  the  sunshine  to  grow  brighter 
and  the  moonlight  deeper  in  its  tenderness  when 
my  heart  was  filled  with  a  sudden  access  of  love 
assuring  me  that  this  world  is  one  with  my  soul  ? 
When  I  have  sung  the  coming  of  the  clouds,  the 
pattering  of  rains  has  found  its  pathos  in  my 
songs.  From  the  dawn  of  our  history  the  poets 
and  artists  have  been  infusing  the  colours  and 
music  of  their  soul  into  the  structure  of  existence. 
And  from  this  I  have  known  certainly  that  the  earth 


96  PERSONALITY 

and  the  sky  are  woven  with  the  fibres  of  man's 
mind,  which  is  the  universal  mind  at  the  same  time. 
If  this  were  not  true,  then  poetry  would  be  false 
and  music  a  delusion,  and  the  mute  world  would 
compel  man's  heart  into  utter  silence.  The  Great 
Master  plays ;  the  breath  is  his  own,  but  the  in- 
strument is  our  mind  through  which  he  brings 
out  his  songs  of  creation,  and  therefore  I  know 
that  I  am  not  a  mere  stranger  resting  in  the  way- 
side inn  of  this  earth  on  my  voyage  of  existence, 
but  I  live  in  a  world  whose  life  is  bound  up  with 
mine.  The  poet  has  known  that  the  reality  of 
this  world  is  personal  and  has  sung : 

The  earth  is  His  joy :   His  joy  is  the  sky ; 

His  joy  is  the  flashing  of  the  sun  and  the  moon; 

His  joy  is  the  beginning,  the  middle,  and  the  end ; 

His  joy  is  eyes,  darkness  and  light. 

Oceans  and  waves  are  His  joy; 

His    joy    the    Saraswati,    the    Jumana    and    the 

Ganges. 
The  Master  is  One :    and  life  and  death, 
Union  and  separation,  are  all  His  plays  of  joy. 


THE  SECOND  BIRTH 


THE   SECOND  BIRTH 

For  us,  inanimate  nature  is  the  outside  view  of 
existence.  We  only  know  how  it  appears  to  us, 
but  we  do  not  know  what  it  is.  For  that  we  can 
only  know  by  sympathy. 

But  the  curtain  rises,  life  appears  on  the  stage, 
and  the  drama  begins  whose  meaning  we  come 
to  understand  through  gestures  and  language 
resembling  our  own.  We  know  what  life  is,  not 
by  outward  features,  not  by  analysis  of  its  parts, 
but  by  a  more  immediate  perception  through 
sympathy.     And  this  is  real  knowledge. 

We  see  a  tree.  It  is  separate  from  its  sur- 
roundings by  the  fact  of  its  individual  life.  All 
its  struggle  is  to  keep  this  separateness  of  its 
creative  individuality  distinct  from  everything 
else  in  the  universe.  Its  life  is  based  upon  a 
dualism,  —  on  one  side  this  individuality  of  the 
tree,  and  on  the  other  the  universe. 

But  if  it  were  a  dualism  of  hostility  and  mutual 
99 


IOO  PERSONALITY 

exclusion,  then  the  tree  would  have  no  chance  to 
maintain  its  existence.  The  whole  league  of 
giant  forces  would  pull  it  to  pieces.  It  is  a  dual- 
ism of  relationship.  The  more  perfect  the  har- 
mony with  its  world  of  the  sun  and  the  soil  and 
the  seasons,  the  more  perfect  becomes  the  tree  in 
its  individuality.  It  is  an  evil  for  it  when  this 
inter-relation  is  checked.  Therefore  life,  on  its 
negative  side,  has  to  maintain  separateness  from 
all  else,  while,  on  its  positive  side,  it  maintains 
unity  with  the  universe.  In  this  unity  is  its 
fulfilment. 

In  the  life  of  an  animal  on  its  negative  side  this 
element  of  separateness  is  still  more  pronounced, 
and  on  that  account  on  its  positive  side  its  rela- 
tionship with  the  world  is  still  wider.  Its  food  is 
more  fully  separated  from  it  than  that  of  the  tree. 
It  has  to  seek  it  and  know  it  under  the  stimuli 
of  pleasure  and  pain.  Therefore  it  has  a  fuller 
relationship  with  its  world  of  knowledge  and  feel- 
ing. The  same  is  also  true  in  its  case  with  regard 
to  the  separation  of  sex.  These  separations,  and 
the  consequent  efforts  after  unity,  have  the  effect 


SECOND    BIRTH  IOI 

of  heightening  the  consciousness  of  self  in  ani- 
mals, making  their  personality  richer  by  their 
contact  with  unforeseen  obstacles  and  unexpected 
possibilities.  In  the  trees  the  separation  from 
their  progeny  ends  in  complete  detachment, 
whereas  in  animals  it  leads  to  a  further  relation- 
ship. Thus  the  vital  interest  of  animals  is  still 
more  enlarged  in  its  scope  and  intensity,  and  their 
consciousness  is  spread  over  a  larger  area.  This 
wider  kingdom  of  their  individuality  they  have 
constantly  to  maintain  through  a  complex  rela- 
tionship with  their  world.  All  obstacles  to  this 
are  evils. 

In  man,  this  dualism  of  physical  life  is  still 
more  varied.  His  needs  are  not  only  greater  in 
number  and  therefore  requiring  larger  field  for 
search,  but  also  more  complex,  requiring  deeper 
knowledge  of  things.  This  gives  him  a  greater 
consciousness  of  himself.  It  is  his  mind  which 
more  fully  takes  the  place  of  the  automatic 
movements  and  instinctive  activities  of  trees  and 
animals.  This  mind  also  has  its  negative  and 
positive  aspects  of  separateness  and  unity.     For, 


102  PERSONALITY 

on  the  one  hand,  it  separates  the  objects  of  knowl- 
edge from  their  knower,  and  then  again  unites 
them  in  a  relationship  of  knowledge.  To  the 
vital  relationship  of  this  world  of  food  and  sex 
is  added  the  secondary  relation  which  is  mental. 
Thus  we  make  this  world  doubly  our  own  by  living 
in  it  and  by  knowing  it. 

But  there  is  another  division  in  man,  which  is 
not  explained  by  the  character  of  his  physical  life. 
It  is  the  dualism  in  his  consciousness  of  what  is 
and  what  ought  to  be.  In  the  animal  this  is 
lacking,  its  conflict  is  between  what  is  and  what 
is  desired;  whereas,  in  man,  the  conflict  is  be- 
tween what  is  desired  and  what  should  be  desired. 
What  is  desired  dwells  in  the  heart  of  the  natural 
life,  which  we  share  with  animals;  but  what 
should  be  desired  belongs  to  a  life  which  is  far 
beyond  it. 

So,  in  man,  a  second  birth  has  taken  place. 
He  still  retains  a  good  many  habits  and  instincts 
of  his  animal  life ;  yet  his  true  life  is  in  the  region 
of  what  ought  to  be.  In  this,  though  there  is  a 
continuation,  yet  there  is   also  a  conflict.     Many 


SECOND    BIRTH  103 

things  that  are  good  for  the  one  life  are  evil  for 
the  other.  This  necessity  of  a  fight  with  himself 
has  introduced  an  element  into  man's  personality 
which  is  character.  From  the  life  of  desire  it 
guides  man  to  the  life  of  purpose.  This  life  is 
the  life  of  the  moral  world. 

In  this  moral  world  we  come  from  the  world 
of  nature  into  the  world  of  humanity.  We  live 
and  move  and  have  our  being  in  the  universal 
man.  A  human  infant  is  born  into  the  material 
universe  and  into  the  universe  of  man  at  the 
same  time.  This  latter  is  a  world  of  ideas  and 
institutions,  of  stored  knowledge  and  trained 
habits.  It  has  been  built  by  strenuous  en- 
deavours of  ages,  by  martyrdoms  of  heroic  men. 
Its  strata  are  deposits  of  the  renunciations  of 
countless  individuals  in  all  ages  and  countries. 
It  has  its  good  and  evil  elements,  —  the  inequali- 
ties of  its  surface  and  its  temperature  making  the 
flow  of  life  full  of  surprises. 

This  is  the  world  of  man's  second  birth,  the 
extra-natural  world,  where  the  dualism  of  the 
animal  life    and  the    moral  makes    us   conscious 


104  PERSONALITY 

of  our  personality  as  man.  Whatever  hinders 
this  life  of  man  from  establishing  perfect  relation- 
ship with  its  moral  world  is  an  evil.  It  is  death, 
—  a  far  greater  death  than  the  death  of  the 
natural  life. 

In  the  natural  world,  with  the  help  of  science, 
man  is  turning  the  forces  of  matter  from  tyranny 
into  obedience. 

But  in  his  moral  world  he  has  a  harder  task  to 
accomplish.  He  has  to  turn  his  own  passions 
and  desires  from  tyranny  into  obedience.  And 
continual  efforts  have  been  directed  towards  this 
end  in  all  times  and  climates.  Nearly  all  our 
institutions  are  the  outcome  of  these  endeavours. 
They  are  giving  directions  to  our  will  and  digging 
channels  for  it  in  order  to  allow  its  course  to  run 
easily  without  useless  waste  of  power. 

We  have  seen  that  the  physical  life  had  its 
gradual  expansion  into  the  mental.  The  mind  of 
animals  is  fully  engrossed  in  the  search  for  and 
knowledge  of  the  immediate  necessities  of  life. 
In  man's  case  these  objects  were  more  varied 
and  therefore  a  greater  mind  power  was  requisite. 


o 
< 


< 

pa 

< 

Z 

< 


SECOND    BIRTH  105 

Thus  we  became  aware  that  our  world  of  present 
needs  is  one  with  a  world  that  infinitely  tran- 
scends our  present  needs.  We  came  to  know  that 
this  world  not  only  provides  us  with  food,  but 
with  thoughts  in  a  greater  measure;  that  there 
is  a  subtle  relationship  of  all  things  with  our 
mind. 

What  the  intellect  is  in  the  world  of  Nature 
our  will  is  in  the  moral  world.  The  more  it  is 
freed  and  widened,  the  more  our  moral  relation- 
ship becomes  true,  varied  and  large.  Its  outer 
freedom  is  the  freedom  from  the  guidance  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  its  inner  freedom  is  from  the 
narrowness  of  self-desire.  We  know  that  when 
intellect  is  freed  from  the  bondage  of  interest  it 
discovers  the  world  of  universal  reason,  with 
which  we  must  be  in  harmony  fully  to  satisfy  our 
needs ;  in  the  same  manner  when  will  is  freed 
from  its  limitations,  when  it  becomes  good, 
that  is  to  say,  when  its  scope  is  extended  to 
all  men  and  all  time,  it  discerns  a  world  tran- 
scending the  moral  world  of  humanity.  It  finds 
a  world  where  all  our  disciplines  of  moral  life  find 


106  PERSONALITY 

their  ultimate  truth,  and  our  mind  is  roused  to 
the  idea  that  there  is  an  infinite  medium  of  truth 
through  which  goodness  finds  its  meaning.  That 
I  become  more  in  my  union  with  others  is  not  a 
simple  fact  of  arithmetic.  We  have  known  that 
when  different  personalities  combine  in  love, 
which  is  the  complete  union,  then  it  is  not  like 
adding  to  the  horse  power  of  efficiency,  but  it  is 
what  was  imperfect  finding  its  perfection  in 
truth,  and  therefore  in  joy;  what  was  mean- 
ingless, when  unrelated,  finding  its  full  meaning 
in  relationship.  This  perfection  is  not  a  thing 
of  measurement  or  analysis,  it  is  a  whole  which 
transcends  all  its  parts.  It  leads  us  into  a  mys- 
tery, which  is  in  the  heart  of  things,  yet  beyond 
it,  —  like  the  beauty  of  a  flower  which  is  infinitely 
more  than  its  botanical  facts ;  like  the  sense  of 
humanity  itself  which  cannot  be  contained  in 
mere  gregariousness. 

This  feeling  of  perfection  in  love,  which  is  the 
feeling  of  the  perfect  oneness,  opens  for  us  the 
gate  of  the  world  of  the  Infinite  One,  who  is  re- 
vealed  in   the   unity   of   all   personalities ;     who 


SECOND    BIRTH  107 

gives  truth  to  sacrifice  of  self,  to  death  which 
leads  to  a  larger  life,  and  to  loss  which  leads  to  a 
greater  gain;  who  turns  the  emptiness  of  re- 
nunciation into  fulfilment  by  his  own  fulness. 
Here  we  come  to  the  realm  of  the  greatest  divi- 
sion in  us,  —  the  division  of  the  finite  and  the 
infinite.  In  this  we  become  conscious  of  the 
relationship  between  what  is  in  us  and  what  is 
beyond  us ;  between  what  is  in  the  moment  and 
what  is  ever  to  come. 

The  consciousness  of  relationship  dawned  in 
us  with  our  physical  existence,  where  there  was 
separation  and  meeting  between  our  individual 
life  and  the  universal  world  of  things ;  it  took  a 
deeper  hue  in  our  mental  life,  where  there  was  a 
separation  and  continual  reunion  between  our 
individual  mind  and  the  universal  world  of 
reason;  it  widened  where  there  was  a  separa- 
tion and  combination  between  the  individual 
will  and  the  universal  world  of  human  personali- 
ties ;  it  came  to  its  ultimate  meaning  where  there 
was  the  separation  and  harmony  between  the 
individual  One   in   us  and   the  universal  One  in 


108  PERSONALITY 

infinity.  And  at  this  point  of  the  everlasting 
parting  and  meeting  of  the  One  with  the  One 
breaks  out  the  wonderful  song  of  man  — 

"That  is  the  Supreme  Path  of  This, 
That  is  the  Supreme  Treasure  of  This, 
That  is  the  Supreme  World  of  This, 
That  is  the  Supreme  Joy  of  This."  ! 

Life  is  the  relationship  of  the  That  and  the  This. 
In  the  world  of  things  and  men,  this  rhythm  of 
That  and  This  flows  on  in  countless  channels  of 
metres ;  but  the  meaning  of  it  is  absent,  till  the 
realization  is  made  perfect  in  the  Supreme  That 
and  This. 

The  relation  of  the  unborn  child  to  its  sur- 
roundings in  the  mother's  womb  is  intimate, 
but  there  its  final  meaning  is  missing.  There  its 
wants  are  ministered  to  in  all  their  details,  but 
its  greatest  want  remains  unfulfilled.  It  must  be 
born  into  the  world  of  light  and  space  and  free- 

1  Eshasya  parama  gatih, 
Eshasya  parama  sampat, 
Esho'sya  paramo  lokah, 
Esho'sya  parama  anandah. 


SECOND    BIRTH  109 

dom  of  action.  That  world  is  so  entirely  differ- 
ent in  every  respect  from  that  of  the  mother's 
womb,  that,  if  the  unborn  child  had  the  power 
to  think,  it  could  never  imagine  what  that  wider 
world  was.  Yet  it  has  limbs,  which  have  their 
only  meaning  in  the  freedom  of  the  air  and  light. 
In  the  same  manner  in  the  natural  world  man 
has  all  the  preparations  for  the  nourishment  of 
his  self.  There  his  self  is  his  principal  concern, 
—  the  self  which  is  detached  in  its  interests  from 
other  selves.  As  is  his  self,  so  are  the  things 
of  his  world;  they  have  no  other  connection  in 
themselves  than  that  of  his  use.  But  some  fac- 
ulties grow  in  him,  like  the  limbs  in  the  unborn 
child,  which  give  him  the  power  to  realize  the 
unity  of  the  world,  —  the  unity  which  is  the 
property  of  soul,  and  not  of  things.  He  has  the 
faculty  of  taking  joy  in  others,  in  beauty  and 
love,  more  so  than  the  joy  in  himself,  —  the 
faculty  which  makes  him  spurn  pleasure  and 
accept  pain  and  death,  makes  him  refuse  to 
acknowledge  any  limit  to  his  progress,  and  leads 
him  towards  knowledge  and  action  that  are  of 


IIO  PERSONALITY 

no  apparent  use  to  him.  This  causes  conflict  with 
the  laws  of  the  natural  world,  and  the  principle  of 
the  survival  of  the  fittest  changes  its  meaning. 

Here  comes  the  greatest  suffering  of  the  dual- 
ism in  man,  —  dualism  of  the  world  of  nature 
and  the  world  of  soul.  The  evil  which  hurts  the 
natural  man  is  pain,  but  that  which  hurts  his  soul 
has  been  given  a  special  name,  —  it  is  sin.  For 
it  may  not  be  at  all  realized  in  pain,  yet  it  is  evil, 
just  as  blindness  or  lameness  is  of  no  consequence 
to  the  embryo,  yet  becomes  a  great  evil  if  it  con- 
tinues after  birth,  for  it  hinders  life's  ultimate 
purpose.  Crime  is  against  man,  sin  is  against 
the  divine  in  us. 

What  is  this  divine  ?  It  is  that  which  has  its 
right  and  true  meaning  in  the  infinite,  which  does 
not  believe  in  the  embryonic  life  of  self  as  the 
ultimate  truth.  The  travail  of  birth  is  upon 
all  humanity  —  its  history  is  the  history  of  suffer- 
ing such  as  no  animal  can  ever  realize.  All  its 
energies  are  urging  it  forward;  it  has  no  rest. 
When  it  goes  to  sleep  upon  its  prosperity,  binds 
its  life  in  codes  of  convention,  begins  to  scoff  at 


SECOND    BIRTH  ill 

its  ideals,  and  wants  to  withdraw  all  its  forces 
towards  the  augmentation  of  self,  then  it  shows 
signs  of  death ;  its  very  power  becomes  the  power 
of  destruction,  —  the  power  which  makes  huge 
preparations  for  death,  not  believing  in  the  im- 
mortal life. 

For  all  other  creatures  nature  is  final.  To  live, 
to  propagate  their  race  and  to  die  is  their  end. 
And  they  are  content.  They  never  cry  for  sal- 
vation, for  emancipation  from  the  limits  of  life; 
they  never  feel  stifled  for  breath  and  knock  with 
all  their  forces  against  the  boundary  walls  of 
their  world;  they  never  know  what  it  is  to  re- 
nounce their  life  of  plenty  and  through  privations 
to  seek  entrance  into  the  realm  of  blessedness. 
They  are  not  ashamed  of  their  desires,  they  are 
pure  in  their  appetites ;  for  these  belong  to  their 
complete  life.  They  are  not  cruel  in  their  cruel- 
ties, not  greedy  in  their  greeds ;  for  these  end  in 
their  objects,  which  are  final  in  themselves.  But 
man  has  a  further  life,  and  therefore  those  pas- 
sions are  despised  by  him  which  do  not  ac- 
knowledge  his   infinity. 


112  PERSONALITY 

In  man,  the  life  of  the  animal  has  taken  a 
further  bend.  He  has  come  to  the  beginning  of 
a  world,  which  has  to  be  created  by  his  own  will 
and  power.  The  receptive  stage  is  past,  in  which 
the  self  tries  to  draw  all  surrounding  things 
towards  its  own  centre  and  gives  nothing.  Man 
is  now  upon  his  career  of  creative  life;  he  is  to 
give  from  his  abundance.  By  his  incessant 
movement  of  renunciation  he  is  to  grow.  What- 
ever checks  that  freedom  of  endless  growth  is 
sin,  which  is  the  evil  that  works  against  man's 
eternity.  This  creative  energy  in  man  has 
shown  itself  from  the  beginning  of  his  chapter 
of  life.  Even  his  physical  needs  are  not  sup- 
plied to  him  ready-made  in  nature's  nursery. 
From  his  primitive  days  he  has  been  busy  creat- 
ing a  world  of  his  own  resources  from  the  raw 
materials  that  lie  around  him.  Even  the  dishes 
of  his  food  are  his  own  creation  and,  unlike  ani- 
mals, he  is  born  naked  and  has  to  create  his 
own  clothes.  This  proves  that  man  has  been 
born  from  the  world  of  nature's  purpose  to  the 
world  of  freedom. 


SECOND    BIRTH  113 

For  creation  is  freedom.  It  is  a  prison,  to 
have  to  live  in  what  is ;  for  it  is  living  in  what 
is  not  ourselves.  There  we  helplessly  allow 
nature  to  choose  us  and  choose  for  us,  and  thus 
we  come  under  the  law  of  natural  selection. 
But  in  our  creation  we  live  in  what  is  ours,  and 
there  more  and  more  the  world  becomes  a  world 
of  our  own  selection;  it  moves  with  our  move- 
ment and  gives  way  to  us  according  to  the  turn 
we  take.  Thus  we  find  that  man  is  not  content 
with  the  world  that  is  given  to  him;  he  is  bent 
upon  making  it  his  own  world.  And  he  is  tak- 
ing to  pieces  the  mechanism  of  the  universe  to 
study  it  and  to  refit  it  according  to  his  own 
requirements.  He  is  restless  under  the  restric- 
tions of  nature's  arrangements  of  things.  These 
impede  the  freedom  of  his  course  at  every  step, 
and  he  has  to  tolerate  the  tyranny  of  matter, 
which  his  nature  refuses  to  believe  final  and 
inevitable. 

Even  in  his  savage  days  he  would  change 
things  by  magical  powers.  He  dreamed,  as  no 
animal  ever  does,  of  Aladdin's  lamp  and  of  the 


114  PERSONALITY 

obedient  forces  of  genii  to  turn  the  world  upside 
down  as  it  suited  him,  because  his  free  spirit, 
in  its  movements,  stumbled  against  things  ar- 
ranged without  consideration  for  him.  He  was 
obliged  to  behave  as  if  he  must  follow  the  ar- 
rangement of  nature,  which  had  not  his  consent, 
or  die.  But  this,  in  spite  of  hard  facts  against 
him,  he  never  could  believe  in  his  heart  of  hearts. 
Therefore  he  dreamed  of  the  paradise  where  he 
could  be  free,  of  the  fairy  land,  of  the  epic  age 
when  man  had  constant  cooperation  with  gods, 
of  the  philosopher's  stone,  of  the  elixir  of  life. 
Though  he  saw  no  gate  opening  out  anywhere, 
he  groped  for  it,  he  fretted,  he  desired  and  prayed 
for  an  entrance  to  freedom  with  all  his  might. 
For  instinctively  he  felt  that  this  world  was  not 
his  final  world,  and  unless  he  had  another  world 
his  soul  was  a  meaningless  torment  to  him. 

Science  guides  man's  rebellion  of  freedom 
against  Nature's  rule.  She  is  working  to  give 
into  man's  hand  Nature's  magic  wand  of  power; 
she  is  to  free  our  spirit  from  the  slavery  of  things. 
Science  has  a  materialistic  appearance,  because 


SECOND    BIRTH  115 

she  is  engaged  in  breaking  the  prison  of  matter 
and  working  in  the  rubbish  heap  of  the  ruins. 
At  the  invasion  of  a  new  country  plunder  becomes 
the  rule  of  the  day.  But  when  that  country  is 
conquered,  things  become  different,  and  those 
who  robbed  act  as  policemen  to  restore  peace 
and  security.  Science  is  at  the  beginning  of  the 
invasion  of  the  material  world  and  there  goes  on 
a  furious  scramble  for  plunder.  Often  things 
look  hideously  materialistic,  shamelessly  belying 
man's  own  nature.  But  the  day  will  come  when 
some  of  the  great  powers  of  nature  will  be  at  the 
beck  and  call  of  every  individual,  and  at  least 
the  prime  necessities  of  life  will  be  supplied  to  all 
with  very  little  care  and  cost.  To  live  will  be  as 
easy  to  man  as  to  breathe,  and  his  spirit  will  be 
free  to  create  his  own  world. 

In  early  days,  when  science  had  not  found  the 
keys  to  nature's  storehouses  of  power,  man  still 
had  the  courage  of  stoicism  to  defy  matter. 
He  said  he  could  go  without  food,  and  clothes 
were  not  absolutely  necessary  for  him  to  save 
him   from   extremes   of   temperature.     He  loved 


Ii6  PERSONALITY 

to  take  pride  in  mortifying  the  flesh.  It  was  his 
pleasure  openly  to  proclaim  that  he  paid  very 
few  of  the  taxes  which  nature  claimed  from  him. 
He  proved  that  he  utterly  disdained  the  fear  of 
pain  and  death,  with  the  help  of  which  nature 
exacted  servitude  from  him. 

Why  was  this  pride  ?  Why  has  man  always 
chafed  against  the  humiliation  of  bending  his 
neck  to  physical  necessities  ?  Why  could  he 
never  reconcile  himself  to  accept  the  limitations 
of  nature  as  absolute  ?  Why  could  he,  in  his 
physical  and  moral  world,  attempt  impossibilities 
that  stagger  imagination,  and,  in  spite  of  re- 
peated disappointments,  never  accept  defeat  ? 

Looked  at  from  the  point  of  view  of  nature 
man  is  foolish.  He  does  not  fully  trust  the 
world  he  lives  in.  He  has  been  waging  war  with 
it  from  the  commencement  of  his  history.  He 
seems  so  fond  of  hurting  himself  from  all  direc- 
tions. It  is  difficult  to  imagine  how  the  careful 
mistress  of  natural  selection  should  leave  loop- 
holes through  which  such  unnecessary  and  dan- 
gerous   elements    could    find    entrance    into    her 


SECOND    BIRTH  117 

economy  and  encourage  man  to  try  to  break  the 
very  world  that  sustains  him.  But  the  chick 
also  behaves  in  the  same  unaccountably  foolish 
manner  in  pecking  through  the  wall  of  its  little 
world.  Somehow  it  has  felt,  with  the  accom- 
plishment of  an  irresistible  impulse,  that  there  is 
something  beyond  its  dear  prison  of  shell  waiting 
to  give  it  the  fulfilment  of  its  existence  in  a 
manner  it  can  never  imagine. 

In  the  same  manner  also,  in  his  instinct,  man 
is  almost  blindly  sure  that,  however  dense  be  his 
envelopment,  he  is  to  be  born  from  Nature's 
womb  to  the  world  of  spirit,  —  the  world  where 
he  has  his  freedom  of  creation ;  where  he  is  in 
cooperation  with  the  infinite,  where  his  creation 
and  God's  creation  are  to  become  one  in  harmony. 

In  almost  all  religious  systems  there  is  a  large 
area  of  pessimism,  where  life  has  been  held  to  be 
an  evil,  and  the  world  a  snare  and  a  delusion; 
where  man  has  felt  himself  to  be  furiously  at 
war  with  his  natural  surroundings.  He  felt 
the  oppression  of  all  things  so  intensely  that  it 
seemed  to  him  there  was  an  evil  personality  in 


Il8  PERSONALITY 

the  world,  which  tempted  him,  and  with  all  its 
cunning  wiles  waylaid  him  into  destruction. 
In  his  desperation  man  had  thought  that  he 
would  shut  up  all  possible  communication  with 
nature  and  utterly  prove  that  he  was  sufficient 
in  himself. 

But  this  is  the  intensely  painful  antagonism  of 
the  child-life  with  the  mother's  life  at  the  time 
of  birth.  It  is  cruel  and  destructive;  it  looks 
like  ingratitude  at  the  moment.  And  all  reli- 
gious pessimism  is  an  ingratitude  of  deepest  dye. 
It  is  a  violent  incitement  to  strike  at  that  which 
has  so  long  borne  us  and  fed  us  with  its  own  life. 

Yet  that  there  could  be  such  an  impossible 
paradox  makes  us  pause  and  think.  There  are 
times  when  we  detach  ourselves  from  our  history 
and  believe  that  such  pessimistic  paroxysms  were 
deliberate  creations  of  certain  monks  and  priests, 
who  lived  under  unnatural  conditions  in  a  time 
of  lawlessness.  In  such  a  belief  we  forget  that 
conspiracies  are  creations  of  history,  but  history 
is  no  creation  of  conspiracies.  There  has  been 
a  violent  demand  upon  human  nature  from  its 


SECOND    BIRTH  119 

own  depth  to  declare  war  against  its  own  self. 
And  though  its  violence  has  subsided,  the  battle- 
cry  has  not  altogether  ceased. 

We  must  know  that  periods  of  transition  have 
their  language  which  cannot  be  taken  literally. 
The  first  assertion  of  soul  comes  to  man  with 
too  violent  an  emphasis  upon  the  separateness 
from  nature,  against  which  it  seems  ready  to 
carry  out  war  of  extermination.  But  it  is  the 
negative  side.  When  the  revolution  for  freedom 
breaks  out,  it  takes  the  aspect  of  anarchy.  Yet 
its  true  meaning  is  not  in  the  destruction  of  gov- 
ernment, but  in  the  freedom  of  government. 

In  like  manner,  the  soul's  birth  in  the  spiritual 
world  is  not  the  severance  of  relationship  with 
what  we  call  nature,  but  freedom  of  relationship, 
perfectness  of  realization. 

In  nature  we  are  blind  and  lame  like  a  child 
before  its  birth.  But  in  the  spiritual  life  we 
are  born  in  freedom.  And  then  because  we  are 
freed  from  the  blind  bondage  of  nature  she  is 
illuminated  to  us,  and  where  we  saw  before  mere 
envelopment  we  now  see  the  mother. 


120  PERSONALITY 

But  what  is  the  ultimate  end  of  the  freedom 
which  has  come  into  man's  life  ?  It  must  have 
its  meaning  in  something  beyond  which  the 
question  need  go  no  farther.  The  answer  is 
the  same  that  we  receive  from  the  life  of  the 
animal  if  we  ask  what  is  its  final  meaning.  The 
animals,  by  feeding  and  gratifying  their  desires, 
realize  their  own  selves.  And  that  is  the  ulti- 
mate end,  to  know  that  I  am.  The  animal 
knows  it,  but  its  knowledge  is  like  the  smoke, 
not  like  the  fire  —  it  comes  with  a  blind  feeling 
but  no  illumination  and  though  it  arouses  the 
truth  it  darkens  it.  It  is  the  consciousness  from 
the  undistinguished  non-self  to  the  distinct  self. 
It  has  just  enough  circumference  to  feel  itself 
as  the  centre. 

The  ultimate  end  of  freedom  is  also  to  know 
that  "I  am."  But  it  is  the  liberation  of  man's 
consciousness  from  the  separateness  of  the  self 
into  its  unity  with  all.  This  freedom  is  not  per- 
fect in  its  mere  extension,  but  its  true  perfection 
is  in  its  intensity,  which  is  love.  The  freedom  of 
the  child's  birth  from  its  mother's  womb  is  not  ful- 


SECOND    BIRTH  121 

filled  by  its  fuller  consciousness  of  its  mother  but 
in  its  intense  consciousness  of  its  mother  in  love. 
In  the  womb  it  was  fed  and  was  warm,  but  it 
was  narrowly  self-contained  in  its  loneliness. 
After  its  birth,  through  the  medium  of  its  free- 
dom, the  inter-communication  of  the  love  of  the 
mother  and  the  child  brings  to  the  child  the  joy  of 
the  fullest  consciousness  of  its  personality.  This 
mother's  love  gives  to  it  the  meaning  of  all  its 
world.  If  the  child  were  merely  a  feeding  organ- 
ism, then  by  fixing  its  roots  into  its  world  it  could 
thrive.  But  the  child  is  a  person,  and  its  per- 
sonality needs  its  full  realization,  which  can 
never  be  in  the  bondage  of  the  womb.  It  has 
to  be  free,  and  the  freedom  of  personality  has 
its  fulfilment,  not  in  itself,  but  in  other  person- 
ality, and  this  is  love. 

It  is  not  true  that  animals  do  not  feel  love. 
But  it  is  too  feeble  to  illuminate  consciousness 
to  such  a  degree  as  to  reveal  the  whole  truth  of 
love  to  them.  Their  love  has  a  glow  which 
brightens  their  selves  but  has  not  the  flame  which 
goes    beyond    the    mystery    of    personality.     Its 


122  PERSONALITY 

range  is  too  immediately  near  to  indicate  its 
direction  towards  the  paradox,  that  personality, 
which  is  the  sense  of  unity  in  one's  own  self, 
yet  which  finds  its  real  truth  in  its  relationship 
of  unity  with  others. 

This  paradox  has  led  man  to  realize  further 
that  nature,  into  which  we  are  born,  is  merely 
an  imperfect  truth,  like  the  truth  of  the  womb. 
But  the  full  truth  is,  that  we  are  born  in  the  lap 
of  the  infinite  personality.  Our  true  world  is 
not  the  world  of  the  laws  of  matter  and  force, 
but  the  world  of  personality.  When  we  fully 
realize  it,  our  freedom  is  fulfilled.  Then  we 
understand  what  the  Upanishat  says,  — 

"Know  all  that  moves  in  the  moving  world 
as  enveloped  by  God,  and  enjoy  by  what  he 
renounces." 

We  have  seen  that  consciousness  of  personality 
begins  with  the  feeling  of  the  separateness  from 
all  and  has  its  culmination  in  the  feeling  of  the 
unity  with  all.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  with 
the  consciousness  of  separation  there  must  be 
consciousness  of  unity,  for  it  cannot  exist  solely 


SECOND    BIRTH  123 

by  itself.  But  the  life  in  which  the  consciousness 
of  separation  takes  the  first  place  and  the  unity 
the  second  place,  and  therefore  where  the  per- 
sonality is  narrow  and  dim  in  the  light  of  truth 
—  this  is  the  life  of  self.  But  the  life  in  which 
the  consciousness  of  unity  is  the  primary  and 
separateness  the  secondary  factor,  and  therefore 
the  personality  is  large  and  bright  in  truth,  — 
this  is  the  life  of  soul.  The  whole  object  of  man 
is  to  free  his  personality  of  self  into  the  personality 
of  soul,  to  turn  his  inward  forces  into  the  forward 
movement  towards  the  infinite,  from  the  contrac- 
tion of  self  in  desire  into  the  expansion  of  soul  in 
love. 

This  personality,  which  is  the  conscious  princi- 
ple of  oneness,  the  centre  of  relationships,  is  the 
reality,  —  therefore  the  ultimate  object  of  attain- 
ment. I  must  emphasize  this  fact  that  this 
world  is  a  real  world  only  in  its  relation  to  a 
central  personality.  When  that  centre  is  taken 
away,  then  it  falls  to  pieces,  becomes  a  heap  of 
abstractions,  matter  and  force,  logical  symbols, 
and    even    those,  —  the    thinnest   semblances    of 


124  PERSONALITY 

reality,  —  would  vanish  into  absolute  nothing- 
ness, if  the  logical  person  in  the  centre,  to  whom 
they  are  related  in  some  harmony  of  reason,  were 
nowhere. 

But  these  centres  are  innumerable.  Each 
creature  has  its  own  little  world  related  to  its 
own  personality.  Therefore,  the  question  natu- 
rally comes  to  our  mind,  —  is  the  reality  many, 
irreconcilably  different  each  from  the  other. 

If  we  have  to  give  an  answer  in  the  affirmative, 
our  whole  nature  rebels.  For  we  know  that  in 
us  the  principle  of  oneness  is  the  basis  of  all 
reality.  Therefore,  through  all  his  questionings 
and  imaginings  from  the  dim  dawn  of  his  doubt- 
ings  and  debates,  man  has  come  to  the  truth, 
that  there  is  one  infinite  centre  to  which  all  the 
personalities,  and  therefore  all  the  world  of  real- 
ity, are  related.  He  is  "Mahantam  purusham," 
the  one  Supreme  Person ;  he  is  "  Satyam,"  the 
one  Supreme  Reality;  he  is  "Jnanam,"  he  has 
the  knowledge  in  him  of  all  knowers,  there- 
fore he  knows  himself  in  all  knowings ;  he  is 
"  Sarvanubhuh, "  he  feels  in  him  the  feelings  of 


SECOND    BIRTH  125 

all  creatures,  therefore  he  feels  himself  in  all 
feelings. 

But  this  Supreme  Person,  the  centre  of  all 
reality,  is  not  merely  a  passive,  a  negatively 
receptive  being.  —  Ananda-rupam  amrtam  yad 
vibhati.  He  is  the  joy  which  reveals  itself  in 
forms.     It  is  his  will  which  creates. 

Will  has  its  supreme  response,  not  in  the 
world  of  law,  but  in  the  world  of  freedom,  not  in 
the  world  of  nature,  but  in  the  spiritual  world. 

This  we  know  in  ourselves.  Our  slaves  do 
our  bidding,  furnish  us  with  our  necessaries,  but 
in  them  our  relation  is  not  perfect.  We  have 
our  own  freedom  of  will  which  can  only  find  its 
true  harmony  in  the  freedom  of  other  wills. 
Where  we  are  slaves  ourselves,  in  our  selfish 
desires,  we  feel  satisfaction  in  slaves.  For  slaves 
reflect  our  own  slavery,  which  comes  back  to  us, 
making  us  dependent.  Therefore  when  America 
freed  her  slaves  she  truly  freed  herself,  not  only 
from  the  spiritual,  but  also  from  the  material 
slavery.  '  Our  highest  joy  is  in  love.  For  there 
we    realize   the   freedom   of   will    in   others.     In 


126  PERSONALITY 

friends,  the  will  meets  our  will  in  fulness  of  free- 
dom, not  in  coercion  of  want  or  fear;  therefore, 
in  this  love,  our  personality  finds  its  highest 
realization. 

Because  the  truth  of  our  will  is  in  its  freedom, 
therefore  all  our  pure  joy  is  in  freedom.  We  have 
pleasure  in  the  fulfilment  of  our  necessity,  — 
but  this  pleasure  is  of  a  negative  nature.  For 
necessity  is  a  bondage,  the  fulfilment  of  which 
frees  us  from  it.  But  there  comes  its  end.  It  is 
different  with  our  delight  in  beauty.  It  is  of  a 
positive  nature.  In  the  rhythm  of  harmony, 
whatever  may  be  its  reason,  we  find  perfection. 
There  we  see  not  the  substance,  or  the  law,  but 
some  relationship  of  forms  which  has  its  harmony 
with  our  personality.  From  the  bondage  of 
mere  lines  and  matter  comes  out  that  which  is 
above  all  limitations  —  it  is  the  complete  unity 
of  relationship.  We  at  once  feel  free  from  the 
tyranny  of  unmeaningness  of  isolated  things,  — 
they  now  give  us  something  which  is  personal 
to  our  own  self.  The  revelation  of  unity  in  its 
passive  perfection,  which  we  find  in  nature,  is 


SECOND    BIRTH  127 

beauty;  the  revelation  of  unity  in  its  active 
perfection,  which  we  find  in  the  spiritual  world, 
is  love.  This  is  not  in  the  rhythm  of  propor- 
tions, but  in  the  rhythm  of  wills.  The  will, 
which  is  free,  must  seek  for  the  realization  of  its 
harmony  other  wills  which  are  also  free,  and  in 
this  is  the  significance  of  spiritual  life.  The  in- 
finite centre  of  personality,  which  radiates  its 
joy  by  giving  itself  out  in  freedom,  must  create 
other  centres  of  freedom  to  unite  with  it  in  har- 
mony. Beauty  is  the  harmony  realized  in  things 
which  are  bound  by  law.  Love  is  the  harmony 
realized  in  wills  which  are  free. 

In  man,  these  centres  of  freedom  have  been 
created.  It  is  not  for  him  to  be  merely  the  re- 
cipient of  favours  from  nature;  he  must  fully 
radiate  himself  out  in  his  creation  of  power  and 
perfection  of  love.  His  movement  must  be  to- 
wards the  Supreme  Person,  whose  movement  is 
towards  him.  The  creation  of  the  natural  world 
is  God's  own  creation,  we  can  only  receive  it  and 
by  receiving  it  make  it  our  own.  But  in  the 
creation   of   the    spiritual   world    we    are    God's 


128  PERSONALITY 

partners.  In  this  work  God  has  to  wait  for  our 
will  to  harmonize  with  his  own.  It  is  not  power 
which  builds  this  spiritual  world ;  there  is  no 
passivity  in  its  remotest  corner,  no  coercion. 
Consciousness  has  to  be  made  clear  of  all  mists 
of  delusion,  will  has  to  be  made  free  from  all 
contrary  forces  of  passions  and  desires,  and  then 
we  meet  with  God  where  he  creates.  There  can 
be  no  passive  union,  —  because  he  is  not  a  passive 
being.  With  him  our  relationship  as  that  of  a 
mere  receiver  of  gifts  is  not  fully  true,  for  that  is 
a  onesided  and  therefore  imperfect  relationship. 
He  gives  us  from  his  own  fulness  and  we  also  give 
him  from  our  abundance.  And  in  this,  not  only 
is  true  joy  for  us,  but  for  God  also. 

In  our  country  the  Vaishnavas  have  realized 
this  truth  and  boldly  asserted  it  by  saying  that 
God  has  to  rely  on  human  souls  for  the  fulfilment 
of  his  love.  In  love  there  must  be  freedom, 
therefore  God  has  not  only  to  wait  till  our  souls, 
out  of  their  own  will,  bring  themselves  into  har- 
mony with  his  own,  but  also  to  suffer  when  there 
are  obstacles  and  rebellions.     •■ 


SECOND    BIRTH  129 

Therefore  in  the  creation  of  the  spiritual  world, 
in  which  man  has  to  work  in  union  with  God, 
there  have  been  sufferings  of  which  animals  can 
have  no  idea.  In  the  tuning  of  the  instruments 
discords  have  shrieked  loud,  and  strings  have 
often  snapped.  When  seen  from  this  aspect, 
such  work  of  collaboration  between  man  and  God 
has  seemed  as  though  meaninglessly  malevolent. 
Because  of  the  ideal  that  there  is  in  the  heart  of 
this  creation,  every  mistake  and  misfit  has  come 
as  a  stab  and  the  world  of  soul  has  bled  and 
groaned.  Freedom  has  often  taken  the  negative 
course  to  prove  that  it  is  freedom,  —  and  man 
has  suffered  and  God  with  him,  so  that  this  world 
of  spirit  might  come  out  of  its  bath  of  fire,  naked 
and  pure,  radiating  light  in  all  its  limbs  like  a 
divine  child.  There  have  been  hypocrisies  and 
lies,  cruel  arrogance  angered  at  the  wounds  it 
inflicts,  spiritual  pride  that  uses  God's  name  to 
insult  man,  and  pride  of  power  that  insults  God 
by  calling  him  its  ally;  there  has  been  the 
smothered  cry  of  centuries  in  pain  robbed  of  its 
voice,   and   children   of   men   mutilated  of  their 


\ 


130  PERSONALITY 

right  arms  of  strength  to  keep  them  helpless  for 
all  time ;  luxuries  have  been  cultivated  upon 
fields  manured  by  the  bloody  sweat  of  slavery, 
and  wealth  built  upon  the  foundations  of  penury 
and  famines.  But,  I  ask,  has  this  giant  spirit  of 
negation  won  ?  Has  it  not  its  greatest  defeat 
in  the  suffering  it  has  caused  in  the  heart  of  the 
infinite  ?  and  is  not  its  callous  pride  shamed  by 
the  very  grass  of  the  wayside  and  flowers  of  the 
field  every  moment  of  its  bloated  existence  ? 
Does  not  the  crime  against  man  and  God  carry 
its  own  punishment  upon  its  head  in  its  crown  of 
hideousness  ?  Yes,  the  divine  in  man  is  not 
afraid  of  success,  or  of  organization ;  it  does  not 
believe  in  the  precautions  of  prudence  and  dimen- 
sions of  power.  Its  strength  is  not  in  the  muscle 
or  the  machine,  neither  in  cleverness  of  policy 
nor  in  callousness  of  conscience ;  it  is  in  its  spirit  ^ 
of  perfection.  The  to-day  scoffs  at  it,  but  it  has 
the  eternity  of  to-morrow  on  its  side.  In  appear- 
ance  it  is  helpless  like  a  babe,  but  its  tears  of 
suffering  in  the  night  set  in  motion  all  the  unseen 
powers  of  heaven,  the  Mother  in  all  creation  is 


SECOND    BIRTH  131 

awakened.  Prison  walls  break  down,  piles  of 
wealth  come  tumbling  to  the  dust  under  the 
weight  of  its  huge  disproportion.  The  history 
of  the  earth  is  the  history  of  earthquakes  and 
floods  and  volcanic  fires,  and  yet,  through  it  all, 
it  is  the  history  of  the  green  fields  and  bubbling 
streams,  of  beauty  and  of  prolific  life.  The 
spiritual  world,  which  is  being  built  of  man's  life  l 
and  that  of  God,  will  pass  its  infancy  of  helpless 
falls  and  bruises,  and  one  day  will  stand  firm  in 
its  vigour  of  youth,  glad  in  its  own  beauty  and 
freedom  of  movement. 

Our  greatest  hope  is  in  this,  that  suffering  is 
there.  It  is  the  language  of  imperfection.  Its 
very  utterance  carries  in  it  the  trust  in  the  perfect, 
like  the  baby's  cry  which  would  be  dumb,  if  it 
had  no  faith  in  the  mother.  This  suffering  has  ! 
driven  man  with  his  prayer  knocking  at  the  gate  * 
of  the  infinite  in  him,  the  divine,  thus  revealing 
his  deepest  instinct,  his  unreasoning  faith  in  the 
reality  of  the  ideal,  —  the  faith  shown  in  the 
readiness  for  death,  in  the  renunciation  of  all 
that  belongs  to  the  self.     God's  life  flowing  in  its 


132  PERSONALITY 

outpour  of  self-giving  has  touched  man's  life 
who  is  also  abroad  in  his  career  of  freedom.  When 
the  discord  rings  out,  man  cries,  —  "  asato  ma 
sad  gamaya."  Help  me  to  pass  through  the  unreal 
to  the  real.  It  is  the  surrender  of  his  self  to  be 
tuned  for  the  music  of  the  soul.  This  surrender 
is  waited  for,  because  the  spiritual  harmony 
cannot  be  effected  except  through  freedom. 
Therefore  man's  willing  surrender  to  the  infinite 
is  the  commencement  of  the  union.  Only  then 
can  God's  love  fully  act  upon  man's  soul  through 
the  medium  of  freedom.  This  surrender  is  our 
soul's  free  choice  of  its  life  of  cooperation  with 
God,  —  cooperation  in  the  work  of  the  perfect 
moulding  of  the  world  of  law  into  the  world 
of  love. 
^  In  the  history  of  man  moments  have  come  when 
we  have  heard  the  music  of  God's  life  touching 
man's  life  in  perfect  harmony.  We  have  known 
the  fulfilment  of  man's  personality  in  gaining 
God's  nature  for  itself  in  utter  self-giving  out  of 
abundance  of  love.  Men  have  been  born  in  this 
world  of  nature,  with  our  human  limitations  and 


SECOND    BIRTH  133 

appetites,  yet  they  proved  that  they  breathed 
in  the  world  of  spirit,  that  the  highest  reality  was 
the  freedom  of  personality  in  the  perfect  union 
of  love.  They  freed  themselves  pure  from  all 
selfish  desires,  from  all  narrowness  of  race  and 
nationality,  from  the  fear  of  man  and  the  bondage 
of  creeds  and  conventions.  They  became  one 
with  their  God  in  the  free  active  life  of  the  in- 
finite, in  their  unlimited  abundance  of  renuncia- 
tion. They  suffered  and  loved.  They  received 
in  their  breasts  the  hurts  of  the  evil  of  the  world 
and  proved  that  the  life  of  the  spirit  was  im- 
mortal. Great  kingdoms  change  their  shapes  and  I 
vanish  like  clouds,  institutions  fade  in  the  air 
like  dreams,  nations  play  their  parts  and  disappear 
in  obscurity,  but  these  individuals  carry  the  death- 
less life  of  all  humanity  in  themselves.  Their 
ceaseless  life  flows  like  a  river  of  a  mighty  volume 
of  flood,  through  the  green  fields  and  deserts, 
through  the  long  dark  caverns  of  oblivion  into 
the  dancing  joy  of  the  sunlight,  bringing  water  of 
life  to  the  door  of  multitudes  of  men  through 
endless   years,    healing   and    allaying    thirst   and 


134  PERSONALITY 

cleansing  the  impurities  of  the  daily  dust,  and 
singing,  with  living  voice,  through  the  noise  of 
the  markets  the  song  of  the  everlasting  life,  —  the 
song  which  runs  thus  : 

"  That  is  the  Supreme  Path  of  This. 

That  is  the  Supreme  Treasure  of  This. 

/ 
That  is  the  Supreme  World  of  This. 

That  is  the  Supreme  Joy  of  This." 


MY  SCHOOL 


MY    SCHOOL 

I  started  a  school  in  Bengal  when  I  was  near- 
ing  forty.  Certainly  this  was  never  expected 
of  me,  having  spent  the  greater  portion  of  my 
life  in  writing,  chiefly  verses.  Therefore  people 
naturally  thought  that  as  a  school  it  might  not 
be  one  of  the  best  of  its  kind,  but  it  was  sure  to 
be  something  outrageously  new,  being  the  prod- 
uct of  daring  inexperience. 

This  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  I  am  often  asked 
what  is  the  idea  upon  which  my  school  is  based. 
The  question  is  a  very  embarrassing  one  for  me 
because  to  satisfy  the  expectation  of  my  ques- 
tioners I  cannot  afford  to  be  commonplace  in 
my  answer.  However,  I  shall  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  be  original  and  shall  be  content  with  being 
merely  truthful. 

In  the  first  place  I  must  confess  it  is  difficult 
for  me  to  say  what  is  the  idea  underlying  my 
institution.  For  the  idea  is  not  like  a  fixed  foun- 
dation upon  which  a  building  is  erected.     It  is 

137 


138  PERSONALITY 

more  like  a  seed  which  cannot  be  separated  and 
pointed  out  directly  it  begins  to  grow  into  a  plant. 

And  I  know  what  it  was  to  which  this  school 
owes  its  origin.  It  was  not  any  new  theory  of 
education,  but  the  memory  of  my  school  days. 

That  those  days  were  unhappy  ones  for  me  I 
cannot  altogether  ascribe  to  my  peculiar  tempera- 
ment or  to  any  special  demerit  of  the  schools  to 
which  I  was  sent.  It  may  be  that  if  I  had  been 
a  little  less  sensitive,  I  could  gradually  have  ac- 
commodated myself  to  its  pressure  and  survived 
long  enough  to  earn  my  university  degrees.  But 
all  the  same,  schools  are  schools,  though  some  are 
better  and  some  worse,  according  to  their  own 
standard. 

The  provision  has  been  made  for  the  infants 
to  be  fed  upon  their  mother's  milk.  They  find 
their  food  and  their  mother  at  the  same  time. 
It  is  complete  nourishment  for  them,  body  and 
soul.  It  is  their  first  introduction  to  the  great 
truth  that  man's  true  relationship  with  the  world 
is  that  of  personal  love  and  not  that  of  the  me- 
chanical law  of  causation. 


MY    SCHOOL  139 

The  introduction  and  the  conclusion  of  a  book 
have  a  similarity  of  features.  In  both  places 
the  complete  aspect  of  truth  is  given.  Only  in 
the  introduction  it  is  simple  because  undeveloped, 
and  in  the  conclusion  it  becomes  simple  again 
because  perfectly  developed.  Truth  has  the 
middle  course  of  its  career,  where  it  grows  com- 
plex, where  it  hurts  itself  against  obstacles, 
breaks  itself  into  pieces  to  find  itself  back  in  a 
fuller  unity  of  realization. 

Similarly  man's  introduction  to  this  world  is 
his  introduction  to  his  final  truth  in  a  simple  form. 
He  is  born  into  a  world  which  to  him  is  intensely 
living,  where  he  as  an  individual  occupies  the 
full  attention  of  his  surroundings.  Then  he  grows 
up  to  doubt  this  deeply  personal  aspect  of  reality, 
he  loses  himself  in  the  complexity  of  things,  sep- 
arates himself  from  his  surroundings,  often  in  a 
spirit  of  antagonism.  But  this  shattering  of 
the  unity  of  truth,  this  uncompromising  civil 
war  between  his  personality  and  his  outer  world, 
can  never  find  its  meaning  in  interminable  discord. 
Thereupon  to  find  the  true  conclusion  of  his  life 


14-0  PERSONALITY 

he  has  to  come  back  through  this  digression  of 
doubt  to  the  simplicity  of  perfect  truth,  to  his 
union  with  all  in  an  infinite  bond  of  love. 

Therefore  our  childhood  should  be  given  its 
full  measure  of  life's  draught,  for  which  it  has  an 
endless  thirst.  The  young  mind  should  be  sat- 
urated with  the  idea  that  it  has  been  born  in  a 
human  world  which  is  iri  harmony  with  the 
world  around  it.  And  this  is  what  our  regular 
type  of  school  ignores  with  an  air  of  superior 
wisdom,  severe  and  disdainful.  It  forcibly 
snatches  away  children  from  a  world  full  of  the 
mystery  of  God's  own  handiwork,  full  of  the 
suggestiveness  of  personality.  It  is  a  mere 
method  of  discipline  which  refuses  to  take  into 
account  the  individual.  It  is  a  manufactory 
specially  designed  for  grinding  out  uniform  results. 
It  follows  an  imaginary  straight  line  of  the  aver- 
age in  digging  its  channel  of  education.  But 
life's  line  is  not  the  straight  line,  for  it  is  fond 
of  playing  the  seesaw  with  the  line  of  the  aver- 
age, bringing  upon  its  head  the  rebuke  of  the 
school.     For  according  to  the  school  life  is  per- 


MY    SCHOOL  141 

feet  when  it  allows  itself  to  be  treated  as  dead, 
to  be  cut  into  symmetrical  conveniences.  And 
this  was  the  cause  of  my  suffering  when  I  was 
sent  to  school.  For  all  of  a  sudden  I  found  my 
world  vanishing  from  around  me,  giving  place  to 
wooden  benches  and  straight  walls  staring  at  me 
with  the  blank  stare  of  the  blind.  I  was  not  a 
creation  of  the  schoolmaster,  —  the  Government 
Board  of  Education  was  not  consulted  when  I 
took  birth  in  the  world.  But  was  that  any  reason 
why  they  should  wreak  their  vengeance  upon  me 
for  this  oversight  of  my  creator  ? 

But  the  legend  is  that  eating  of  the  fruit  of 
knowledge  is  not  consonant  with  dwelling  in 
paradise.  Therefore  men's  children  have  to  be 
banished  from  their  paradise  into  a  realm  of 
death,  dominated  by  the  decency  of  a  tailoring 
department.  So  my  mind  had  to  accept  the 
tight-fitting  encasement  of  the  school  which,  being 
like  the  shoes  of  a  mandarin  woman,  pinched  and 
bruised  my  nature  on  all  sides  and  at  every  move- 
ment. I  was  fortunate  enough  in  extricating 
myself  before  insensibility  set  in. 


142  PERSONALITY 

Though  I  did  not  have  to  serve  the  full  penal 
term  which  men  of  my  position  have  to  undergo 
to  find  their  entrance  into  cultured  society,  I  am 
glad  that  I  did  not  altogether  escape  from  its 
molestation.  For  it  has  given  me  knowledge  of 
the  wrong  from  which  the  children  of  men  suffer. 

The  cause  of  it  is  this,  that  man's  intention  is 
going  against  God's  intention  as  to  how  children 
should  grow  into  knowledge.  How  we  should 
conduct  our  business  is  our  own  affair,  and  there- 
fore in  our  offices  we  are  free  to  create  in  the 
measure  of  our  special  purposes.  But  such  office 
arrangement  does  not  suit  God's  creation.  And 
children  are  God's  own  creation. 

We  have  come  to  this  world  to  accept  it,  not 
merely  to  know  it.  We  may  become  powerful 
by  knowledge,  but  we  attain  fulness  by  sympathy. 
The  highest  education  is  that  which  does  not 
merely  give  us  information  but  makes  our  life 
in  harmony  with  all  existence.  But  we  find  that 
this  education  of  sympathy  is  not  only  systemati- 
cally ignored  in  schools,  but  it  is  severely  repressed. 
From  our  very  childhood  habits  are  formed  and 


MY    SCHOOL  143 

knowledge  is  imparted  in  such  a  manner  that  our 
life  is  weaned  away  from  nature  and  our  mind 
and  the  world  are  set  in  opposition  from  the  be- 
ginning of  our  days.  Thus  the  greatest  of  edu- 
cations for  which  we  came  prepared  is  neglected, 
and  we  are  made  to  lose  our  world  to  find  a  bagful 
of  informations  instead.  We  rob  the  child  of  his 
earth  to  teach  him  geography,  of  language  to 
teach  him  grammar.  His  hunger  is  for  the  Epic, 
but  he  is  supplied  with  chronicles  of  facts  and 
dates.  He  was  born  in  the  human  world,  but  is 
banished  into  the  world  of  living  gramophones, 
to  expiate  for  the  original  sin  of  being  born  in 
ignorance.  Child-nature  protests  against  such 
calamity  with  all  its  power  of  suffering,  subdued 
at  last  into  silence  by  punishment. 

We  all  know  children  are  lovers  of  the  dust; 
their  whole  body  and  mind  thirst  for  sunlight 
and  air  as  flowers  do.  They  are  never  in  a  mood 
to  refuse  the  constant  invitations  to  establish 
direct  communication  coming  to  their  senses 
from  the  universe. 

But  unfortunately  for  children  their  parents, 


144  PERSONALITY 

in  the  pursuit  of  their  profession,  in  conformity 
to  their  social  traditions,  live  in  their  own  peculiar 
world  of  habits.  Much  of  this  cannot  be  helped. 
For  men  have  to  specialize,  driven  by  circum- 
stances and  by  need  of  social  uniformity. 

But  our  childhood  is  the  period  when  we  have 
or  ought  to  have  more  freedom  —  freedom  from 
the  necessity  of  specialization  into  the  narrow 
bounds  of  social  and  professional  conventionalism. 

I  well  remember  the  surprise  and  annoyance  of 
an  experienced  headmaster,  reputed  to  be  a  suc- 
cessful disciplinarian,  when  he  saw  one  of  the 
boys  of  my  school  climbing  a  tree  and  choosing  a 
fork  of  the  branches  for  settling  down  to  his 
studies.  I  had  to  say  to  him  in  explanation  that 
"childhood  is  the  only  period  of  life  when  a  civil- 
ized man  can  exercise  his  choice  between  the 
branches  of  a  tree  and  his  drawing-room  chair, 
and  should  I  deprive  this  boy  of  that  privilege 
because  I,  as  a  grown-up  man,  am  barred  from 
it?"  What  is  surprising  is  to  notice  the  same 
headmaster's  approbation  of  the  boys'  studying 
Botany.     He  believes  in  an  impersonal  knowledge 


o 

Q 
< 


O 

U 


o 
z, 

3- 

o 

< 

O 

o 
U 

H 

< 


MY    SCHOOL  145 

of  the  tree  because  that  is  science,  but  not  in  a 
personal  experience  of  it.  This  growth  of  expe- 
rience leads  to  forming  instinct  which  is  the  result 
of  nature's  own  method  of  instruction.  The 
boys  of  my  school  have  acquired  instinctive 
knowledge  of  the  physiognomy  of  the  tree.  By 
the  least  touch  they  know  where  they  can  find  a 
foothold  upon  an  apparently  inhospitable  trunk; 
they  know  how  far  they  can  take  liberty  with  the 
branches,  how  to  distribute  their  bodies'  weight  so 
as  to  make  themselves  least  burdensome  to  branch- 
lets.  My  boys  are  able  to  make  the  best  possible 
use  of  the  tree  in  the  matter  of  gathering  fruits, 
taking  rest  and  hiding  from  undesirable  pursuers. 
I  myself  was  brought  up  in  a  cultured  home  in  a 
town,  and  as  far  as  my  personal  behaviour  goes  I 
have  been  obliged  to  act  all  through  my  life  as 
if  I  were  born  in  a  world  where  there  are  no  trees. 
Therefore  I  consider  it  as  a  part  of  education  for 
my  boys  to  let  them  fully  realize  that  they  are  in 
a  scheme  of  existence  where  trees  are  a  substantial 
fact,  not  merely  as  generating  chlorophyl  and 
taking  carbon  from  the  air,  but  as  living  trees. 


146  PERSONALITY 

Naturally  the  soles  of  our  feet  are  so  made  that 
they  become  the  best  instruments  for  us  to  stand 
upon  the  earth  and  to  walk  with.  From  the  day 
we  commenced  to  wear  shoes  we  minimized  the 
purpose  of  our  feet.  With  the  lessening  of  their 
responsibility  they  have  lost  their  dignity,  and 
now  they  lend  themselves  to  be  pampered  with 
socks,  slippers  and  Shoes  of  all  prices  and  shapes 
and  misproportions.  For  us  it  amounts  to  a 
grievance  against  God  for  not  giving  us  hooves 
instead  of  beautifully  sensitive  soles. 

I  am  not  for  banishing  foot-gear  altogether  from 
men's  use.  But  I  have  no  hesitation  in  asserting 
that  the  soles  of  children's  feet  should  not  be 
deprived  of  their  education,  provided  for  them  by 
nature,  free  of  cost.  Of  all  the  limbs  we  have 
they  are  the  best  adapted  for  intimately  knowing 
the  earth  by  their  touch.  For  the  earth  has  her 
subtle  modulations  of  contour  which  she  only 
offers  for  the  kiss  of  her  true  lovers  —  the  feet. 

I  have  again  to  confess  that  I  was  brought  up 
in  a  respectable  household  and  my  feet  from 
childhood    have    carefully   been    saved    from    all 


MY    SCHOOL  147 

naked  contact  with  the  dust.  When  I  try  to 
emulate  my  boys  in  walking  barefoot,  I  painfully 
realize  what  thickness  of  ignorance  about  the 
earth  I  carry  under  my  feet.  I  invariably  choose 
the  thorns  to  tread  upon  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
make  the  thorns  exult.  My  feet  do  not  have  the 
instinct  to  follow  the  lines  of  least  .resistance. 
For  even  the  flattest  of  earth-surfaces  has  its 
dimples  of  diminutive  hills  and  dales  only  discern- 
ible by  educated  feet.  I  have  often  wondered  at 
the  unreasonable  zigzag  of  footpaths  across  per- 
fectly plain  fields.  It  becomes  all  the  more  per- 
plexing when  you  consider  that  a  footpath  is  not 
made  by  the  caprice  of  one  individual.  Unless 
most  of  the  walkers  possessed  exactly  the  same 
eccentricity  such  obviously  inconvenient  passages 
could  not  have  been  made.  But  the  real  cause 
lies  in  the  subtle  suggestions  coming  from  the 
earth  to  which  our  feet  unconsciously  respond. 
Those  for  whom  such  communications  have  not 
been  cut  off  can  adjust  their  muscles  of  the  feet 
with  great  rapidity  at  the  least  indication.  There- 
fore they  can  save  themselves  from  the  intrusion 


148  PERSONALITY 

of  thorns,  even  while  treading  upon  them,  and 
walk  barefooted  on  a  gravelly  path  without  the 
least  discomfort.  I  know  that  in  the  practical 
world  shoes  will  be  worn,  roads  will  be  metalled, 
cars  will  be  used.  But  during  their  period  of 
education  should  children  be  not  given  to  know 
that  the  world  is  not  all  drawing-room,  that  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  nature  to  which  their  limbs  are 
made  beautifully  to  respond  ? 

There  are  men  who  think  that  by  the  simplicity 
of  living,  introduced  in  my  school,  I  preach  the 
idealization  of  poverty  which  prevailed  in  the 
mediaeval  age.  The  full  discussion  of  this  sub- 
ject is  outside  the  scope  of  my  paper,  but  seen 
from  the  point  of  view  of  education,  should  we  not 
admit  that  poverty  is  the  school  in  which  man  had 
his  first  lessons  and  his  best  training  ?  Even  a 
millionnaire's  son  has  to  be  born  helplessly  poor 
and  to  begin  his  lesson  of  life  from  the  beginning. 
He  has  to  learn  to  walk  like  the  poorest  of  children, 
though  he  has  means  to  afford  to  be  without  the 
appendage  of  legs.  Poverty  brings  us  into  com- 
plete touch  with  life  and  the  world,  for  living 


MY    SCHOOL  149 

richly  is  living  mostly  by  proxy,  thus  living  in  a 
lesser  world  of  reality.  This  may  be  good  for 
one's  pleasure  and  pride,  but  not  for  one's  edu- 
cation. Wealth  is  a  golden  cage  in  which  the 
children  of  the  rich  are  bred  into  artificial  deaden- 
ing of  their  powers.  Therefore  in  my  school, 
much  to  the  disgust  of  the  people  of  expensive 
habits,  I  had  to  provide  for  this  great  teacher, 
—  this  bareness  of  furniture  and  materials,  — 
not  because  it  is  poverty,  but  because  it  leads  to 
personal  experience  of  the  world. 

What  I  propose  is  that  men  should  have  some 
limited  period  of  their  life  specially  reserved 
for  the  life  of  the  primitive  man.  Civilized  busy- 
bodies  have  not  been  allowed  to  tamper  with  the 
unborn  child.  In  the  mother's  womb  it  has 
leisure  to  finish  its  first  stage  of  the  vegetative 
life.  But  directly  it  is  born  with  all  its  instincts 
ready  for  the  next  stage,  which  is  the  natural 
life,  it  is  at  once  pounced  upon  by  the  society  of 
cultivated  habits  to  be  snatched  away  from  the 
open  arms  of  the  earth,  water  and  the  sky,  from 
the  sunlight  and  air.     At  first  it  struggles  and 


ISO  PERSONALITY 

bitterly  cries,  and  then  it  gradually  forgets  that 
it  had  for  its  inheritance  God's  creation ;  then  it 
shuts  its  windows,  pulls  down  its  curtains,  loses 
itself  among  meaningless  miscellanies  and  feels 
proud  of  its  accumulations  at  the  cost  of  its  world 
and  possibly  of  its  soul. 

The  civilized  world  of  conventions  and  things 
comes  in  the  middle  career  of  man's  progress. 
It  is  neither  in  the  beginning  nor  in  the  end.  Its 
enormous  complexity  and  codes  of  decorum  have 
their  uses.  But  when  it  takes  these  to  be  final, 
and  makes  it  a  rule  that  no  green  spot  should  be 
left  in  man's  life  away  from  its  reign  of  smoke  and 
noise,  of  draped  and  decorated  propriety,  then 
children  suffer,  and  in  the  young  men  is  produced 
world-weariness,  and  old  men  forget  to  grow  old 
in  peace  and  beauty,  merely  becoming  dilapidated 
youths,  ashamed  of  their  shabbiness  of  age,  full 
of  holes  and  patchwork. 

However,  it  is  certain  that  children  did  not 
bargain  for  this  muffled  and  screened  world  of 
decency  when  they  were  ready  to  be  born  upon  this 
earth.     If  they  had  any  idea  that  they  were  about 


MY    SCHOOL  151 

to  open  their  eyes  to  the  sunlight,  only  to  find 
themselves  in  the  hands  of  the  education  depart- 
ment till  they  should  lose  their  freshness  of  mind 
and  keenness  of  sense,  they  would  think  twice 
before  venturing  upon  their  career  of  humanity. 
God's  arrangements  are  never  insolently  special 
arrangements.  They  always  have  the  harmony 
of  wholeness  and  unbroken  continuity  with  all 
things.  Therefore  what  tortured  me  in  my 
school  days  was  the  fact  that  the  school  had  not 
the  completeness  of  the  world.  It  was  a  special 
arrangement  for  giving  lessons.  It  could  only 
be  suitable  for  grown-up  people  who  were  con- 
scious of  the  special  need  of  such  places  and 
therefore  ready  to  accept  their  teaching  at  the 
cost  of  dissociation  from  life.  But  children  are 
in  love  with  life,  and  it  is  their  first  love.  All 
its  colour  and  movement  attracts  their  eager 
attention.  And  are  we  quite  sure  of  our  wisdom 
in  stifling  this  love  ?  Children  are  not  born 
ascetics,  fit  to  enter  at  once  into  the  monastic 
discipline  of  acquiring  knowledge.  At  first  they 
must  gather  knowledge  through  their  love  of  life, 


152  PERSONALITY 

and  then  they  will  renounce  their  lives  to  gain 
knowledge,  and  then  again  they  will  come  back 
to  their  fuller  lives  with  ripened  wisdom. 

But  society  has  made  its  own  arrangements 
for  manipulating  men's  minds  to  fit  its  special 
patterns.  These  arrangements  are  so  closely 
organized  that  it  is  difficult  to  find  gaps  through 
which  to  bring  in  nature.  There  is  a  serial  ad- 
justment of  penalties  which  follows  to  the  end 
one  who  ventures  to  take  liberty  with  some  part 
of  the  arrangements,  even  to  save  his  soul.  There- 
fore it  is  one  thing  to  realize  truth  and  another  to 
bring  it  into  practice  where  the  whole  current 
of  the  prevailing  system  goes  against  you.  This 
is  why  when  I  had  to  face  the  problem  of  my  own 
son's  education  I  was  at  a  loss  to  give  it  a  practical 
solution.  The  first  thing  that  I  did  was  to  take 
him  away  from  the  town  surroundings  into  a 
village  and  allow  him  the  freedom  of  primeval 
nature  as  far  as  it  is  available  in  modern  days. 
He  had  a  river,  noted  for  its  danger,  where  he 
swam  and  rowed  without  check  from  the  anxiety 
of  his  elders.     He  spent  his  time  in  the  fields  and 


MY    SCHOOL  153 

on  the  trackless  sand  banks,  coming  late  for  his 
meals  without  being  questioned.  He  had  none  of 
those  luxuries  that  are  not  only  customary  but 
are  held  as  proper  for  boys  of  his  circumstance. 
For  which  privations,  I  am  sure,  he  was  pitied 
and  his  parents  blamed  by  the  people  for  whom 
society  has  blotted  out  the  whole  world.  But 
I  was  certain  that  luxuries  are  burdens  to  boys. 
They  are  the  burdens  of  other  people's  habits,  the 
burdens  of  the  vicarious  pride  and  pleasure  which 
parents  enjoy  through  their  children. 

Yet,  being  an  individual  of  limited  resources, 
I  could  do  very  little  for  my  son  in  the  way  of 
educating  him  according  to  my  plan.  But  he  had 
freedom  of  movement,  he  had  very  few  of  the 
screens  of  wealth  and  respectability  between  him- 
self and  the  world  of  nature.  Thus  he  had  a 
better  opportunity  for  a  real  experience  of  this 
universe  than  I  ever  had.  But  one  thing  exer- 
cised my  mind  more  than  anything  else  as  the  most 
important. 

The  object  of  education  is  to  give  man  the 
unity  of  truth.     Formerly,  when  life  was  simple, 


154  PERSONALITY 

all  the  different  elements  of  man  were  in  complete 
harmony.  But  when  there  came  the  separation 
of  the  intellect  from  the  spiritual  and  the  phys- 
ical, the  school  education  put  entire  emphasis 
on  the  intellect  and  on  the  physical  side  of  man. 
We  devote  our  sole  attention  to  giving  children 
information,  not  knowing  that  by  this  emphasis 
we  are  accentuating  a  break  between  the  in- 
tellectual, the  physical  and  the  spiritual  life. 

I  believe  in  a  spiritual  world  —  not  as  any- 
thing separate  from  this  world  —  but  as  its  inner- 
most truth.  With  the  breath  we  draw  we  must 
always  feel  this  truth,  that  we  are  living  in  God. 

\Born  in  this  great  world,  full  of  the  mystery  of 
the  infinite,  we  cannot  accept  our  existence  as  a 
momentary  outburst  of  chance  drifting  on  the 
current  of  matter  towards  an  eternal  nowhere. 
We  cannot  look  upon  our  lives  as  dreams  of  a 
dreamer  who  has  no  awakening  in  all  time.  We 
have  a  personality  to  which  matter  and  force 
are  unmeaning  unless  related  to  something  in- 
finitely personal,  whose  nature  we  have  dis- 
covered, in  some  measure,  in  human  love,  in  the 


MY    SCHOOL  155 

greatness  of  the  good,  in  the  martyrdom  of  heroic 
souls,  in  the  ineffable  beauty  of  nature  which 
can  never  be  a  mere  physical  fact  nor  anything 
but  an  expression  of  personality. 

Experience  of  this  spiritual  world,  whose  reality 
we  miss  by  our  incessant  habit  of  ignoring  it  from 
childhood,  has  to  be  gained  by  children  by  fully 
living  in  it  and  not  through  the  medium  of  theo- 
logical instruction.  But  how  this  is  to  be  done  is 
a  problem  difficult  of  solution  in  the  present  age. 
'For  nowadays  men  have  managed  so  fully  to 
occupy  their  time  that  they  do  not  find  leisure 
to  know  that  their  activities  have  only  movement 
but  very  little  truth,  that  their  soul  has  not  found 
its  world. 

In  India  we  still  cherish  in  our  memory  the 
tradition  of  the  forest  colonies  of  great  teachers. 
These  places  were  neither  schools  nor  monasteries, 
in  the  modern  sense  of  the  word.  They  consisted 
of  homes  where  with  their  families  lived  men 
whose  object  was  to  see  the  world  in  God  and  to 
realize  their  own  life  in  him.  Though  they  lived 
outside  society,  yet  they  were  to  society  what  the 


156  PERSONALITY 

sun  is  to  the  planets,  the  centre  from  which  it 
received  its  life  and  light.  And  here  boys  grew  up 
in  an  intimate  vision  of  eternal  life  before  they 
were  thought  fit  to  enter  the  state  of  the  house- 
holder. 

Thus  in  the  ancient  India  the  school  was  there 
where  was  the  life  itself.  There  the  students  were 
brought  up,  not  in  the  academic  atmosphere  of 
scholarship  and  learning,  or  in  the  maimed  life 
of  monastic  seclusion,  but  in  the  atmosphere  of 
living  aspiration.  They  took  the  cattle  to  pas- 
ture, collected  firewood,  gathered  fruit,  culti- 
vated kindness  to  all  creatures  and  grew  in  their 
spirit  with  their  own  teachers'  spiritual  growth. 
This  was  possible  because  the  primary  object  of 
these  places  was  not  teaching  but  giving  shelter 
to  those  who  lived  their  life  in  God. 

That  this  traditional  relationship  of  the  masters 
and  disciples  is  not  a  mere  romantic  fiction  is 
proved  by  the  relic  we  still  possess  of  the  indige- 
nous system  of  education  which  has  preserved  its 
independence  for  centuries  to  be  about  to  suc- 
cumb at  last  to  the  hand  of  the  foreign  bureau- 


MY    SCHOOL  157 

cratic  control.  These  chatus-pathis,  which  is  the 
Sanskrit  name  for  the  university,  have  not  the 
savour  of  the  school  about  them.  The  students 
live  in  their  master's  home  like  the  children  of 
the  house,  without  having  to  pay  for  their  board 
and  lodging  or  tuition.  The  teacher  prosecutes 
his  own  study,  living  a  life  of  simplicity,  and  help- 
ing the  students  in  their  lessons  as  a  part  of  his 
life  and  not  of  his  profession. 

This  ideal  of  education  through  sharing  a  life 
of  high  aspiration  with  one's  master  took  posses- 
sion of  my  mind.  The  narrowness  of  our  caged  up 
future  and  the  sordidness  of  our  maimed  oppor- 
tunities urged  me  all  the  more  towards  its  realiza- 
tion. Those  who  in  other  countries  are  favoured 
with  unlimited  expectations  of  worldly  prospects 
can  fix  their  purposes  of  education  to  those  objects. 
The  range  of  their  life  is  varied  and  wide  enough 
to  give  them  the  freedom  necessary  for  develop- 
ment of  their  powers.  But  for  us  to  maintain 
our  self-respect  which  we  owe  to  ourselves  and  to 
our  creator,  we  must  make  the  purpose  of  our 
education   nothing   short  of  the  highest  purpose 


158  PERSONALITY 

of  man,  the  fullest  growth  and  freedom  of  soul. 
It  is  pitiful  to  have  to  scramble  for  small  pit- 
tances of  fortune.  Only  let  us  have  access  to  the 
life  that  goes  beyond  death  and  rises  above  all 
circumstances,  let  us  find  our  God,  let  us  live  for 
that  ultimate  truth  which  emancipates  us  from 
the  bondage  of  the  dust  and  gives  us  the  wealth, 
not  of  things  but  of  inner  light,  not  of  power  but 
of  love.  Such  emancipation  of  soul  we  have 
witnessed  in  our  country  among  men  devoid  of 
book-learning  and  living  in  absolute  poverty. 
In  India  we  have  the  inheritance  of  this  treasure 
of  spiritual  wisdom.  Let  the  object  of  our  educa- 
tion be  to  open  it  out  before  us  and  to  give  us  the 
power  to  make  the  true  use  of  it  in  our  life,  and 
offer  it  to  the  rest  of  the  world  when  the  time 
comes,  as  our  contribution  to  its  eternal  welfare. 
I  had  been  immersed  in  literary  activities  when 
this  thought  struck  my  mind  with  painful  inten- 
sity. I  suddenly  felt  like  one  groaning  under  the 
suffocation  of  nightmare.  It  was  not  only  my 
own  soul,  but  the  soul  of  my  country  that  seemed 
to  be  struggling  for  its  breath   through  me.     I 


MY    SCHOOL  159 

felt  clearly  that  what  was  needed  was  not  any 
particular  material  object,  not  wealth  or  comfort 
or  power,  but  our  awakening  to  full  consciousness 
in  soul  freedom,  the  freedom  of  the  life  in  God, 
where  we  have  no  enmity  with  those  who  must 
fight,  no  competition  with  those  who  must  make 
money,  where  we  are  beyond  all  attacks  and  above 
all  insults. 

Fortunately  for  me  I  had  a  place  ready  to  my 
hand  where  I  could  begin  my  work.  My  father, 
in  one  of  his  numerous  travels,  had  selected  this 
lonely  spot  as  the  one  suitable  for  his  life  of  com- 
munion with  God.  This  place,  with  a  permanent 
endowment,  he  dedicated  to  the  use  of  those  who 
seek  peace  and  seclusion  for  their  meditation  and 
prayer.  I  had  about  ten  boys  with  me  when  I 
came  here  and  started  my  new  life  with  no  pre- 
vious experience  whatever. 

All  round  our  ashram  is  a  vast  open  country, 
bare  up  to  the  line  of  the  horizon  except  for 
sparsely  growing  stunted  date  palms  and  prickly 
shrubs  struggling  with  ant-hills.  Below  the  level 
of  the  field  there  extend  numberless  mounds  and 


160  PERSONALITY 

tiny  hillocks  of  red  gravel  and  pebbles  of  all 
shapes  and  colours,  intersected  by  narrow  channels 
of  rainwater.  Not  far  away  towards  the  south 
near  the  village  can  be  seen  through  the  intervals 
of  a  row  of  palm  trees  the  gleaming  surface  of 
steel-blue  water,  collected  in  a  hollow  of  the 
ground.  A  road  used  by  the  village  people  for 
their  marketing  in  the  town  goes  meandering 
through  the  lonely  fields,  with  its  red  dust  staring 
in  the  sun.  Travellers  coming  up  this  road  can 
see  from  a  distance  on  the  summit  of  the  undulat- 
ing ground  the  spire  of  a  temple  and  the  top  of  a 
building,  indicating  the  Shanti-Niketan  ashram, 
among  its  amalaki  groves  and  its  avenue  of  stately 
sal  trees. 

And  here  the  school  has  been  growing  up  for 
over  fifteen  years,  passing  through  many  changes 
and  often  grave  crises.  Having  the  evil  reputa- 
tion of  a  poet,  I  could  with  great  difficulty  win  the 
trust  of  my  countrymen  and  avoid  the  suspicion 
of  the  bureaucracy.  That  at  last  I  have  been 
able  to  accomplish  it  in  some  measure  is  owing 
to  my  never  expecting  it,  going  on  in  my  own 


MY    SCHOOL  161 

way  without  waiting  for  outside  sympathy,  help 
or  advice.  My  resources  were  extremely  small, 
with  the  burden  of  a  heavy  debt  upon  them.  But 
this  poverty  itself  gave  me  the  full  strength  of 
freedom,  making  me  rely  upon  truth  rather  than 
upon  materials. 

Because  the  growth  of  this  school  was  the  growth 
of  my  life  and  not  that  of  a  mere  carrying  out 
of  my  doctrines,  its  ideals  changed  with  its  ma- 
turity like  a  ripening  fruit  that  not  only  grows 
in  its  bulk  and  deepens  in  its  colour,  but  under- 
goes change  in  the  very  quality  of  its  inner  pulp. 
I  started  with  the  idea  that  I  had  a  benevolent 
object  to  perform.  I  worked  hard,  but  the  only 
satisfaction  I  had  came  from  keeping  count  of 
the  amount  of  sacrifice  in  money,  energy  and 
time;  admiring  my  own  untiring  goodness. 
But  the  result  achieved  was  of  small  worth.  I 
went  on  building  system  after  system  and  then 
pulling  them  down.  It  merely  occupied  my 
time,  but  at  the  heart  my  work  remained  vacant. 
I  well  remember  when  an  old  disciple  of  my 
father  came  and  said  to  me,  "What  I  see  about 

L 


162  PERSONALITY 

me,  is  like  a  wedding  hall  where  nothing  is  want- 
ing in  preparation,  only  the  bridegroom  is  ab- 
sent." The  mistake  I  made  was  in  thinking 
that  my  own  purpose  was  that  bridegroom.  But 
gradually  my  heart  found  its  centre.  It  was 
not  in  the  work,  not  in  my  wish,  but  in  truth. 
I  sat  alone  on  the  upper  terrace  of  the  Shanti- 
Niketan  house  and  gazed  upon  the  tree  tops  of 
the  sal  avenue  before  me.  I  withdrew  my  heart 
from  my  own  schemes  and  calculations,  from 
my  daily  struggles,  and  held  it  up  in  silence 
before  the  peace  and  presence  that  permeated 
the  sky;  and  gradually  my  heart  was  filled.  I 
began  to  see  the  world  around  me  through  the 
sight  of  my  soul.  The  trees  seemed  to  me  like 
silent  hymns  rising  from  the  mute  heart  of  the 
earth,  and  the  shouts  and  laughter  of  the  boys 
mingling  in  the  evening  sky  came  before  me  like 
trees  of  living  sounds  rising  up  from  the  depth 
of  human  life.  I  found  my  message  in  the  sun- 
light that  touched  my  inner  mind  and  felt  a 
fullness  in  the  sky  that  spoke  to  me  in  the  word 
of    our    ancient    rishi,  —  "  Ko  hyevanyat,     Kah 


MY    SCHOOL  163 

pranyat  yadesha  akasha  anando  no  syat" — "Who- 
ever could  move  and  strive  and  live  in  this  world 
if  the  sky  were  not  filled  with  love  ?  "  Thus  when 
I  turned  back  from  the  struggle  to  achieve  re- 
sults, from  the  ambition  of  doing  benefit  to  others, 
and  came  to  my  own  innermost  need,  when  I 
felt  that  living  one's  own  life  in  truth  is  living 
the  life  of  all  the  world,  then  the  unquiet  atmos- 
phere of  the  outward  struggle  cleared  up  and 
the  power  of  spontaneous  creation  found  its 
way  through  the  centre  of  all  things.  Even  now 
whatever  is  superficial  and  futile  in  the  work- 
ing of  our  institution  is  owing  to  distrust  of  the 
spirit,  lurking  in  our  mind,  to  the  ineradicable 
consciousness  of  our  self-importance,  to  the  habit 
of  looking  for  the  cause  of  our  failures  outside 
us,  and  the  endeavour  to  repair  all  looseness  in 
our  work  by  tightening  the  screws  of  organiza- 
tion. From  my  experience  I  know  that  where 
the  eagerness  to  teach  others  is  too  strong,  espe- 
cially in  the  matter  of  spiritual  life,  the  result 
becomes  meagre  and  mixed  with  untruth.  All 
the   hypocrisy  and   self-delusion  in  our  religious 


164  PERSONALITY 

convictions  and  practices  are  the  outcome  of  the 
goadings  of  overzealous  activities  of  mentorship. 
In  our  spiritual  attainment  gaining  and  giving 
are  the  same  thing;  as  in  a  lamp,  to  light  itself 
is  the  same  as  to  impart  light  to  others.  When  a 
man  makes  it  his  profession  to  preach  God  to 
others,  then  he  will  raise  the  dust  more  than  give 
direction  to  truth.  Teaching  of  religion  can 
never  be  imparted  in  the  form  of  lessons,  it  is 
there  where  there  is  religion  in  living.  Therefore 
the  ideal  of  the  forest  colony  of  the  seekers  of 
God  as  the  true  school  of  spiritual  life  holds  good 
even  in  this  age.  Religion  is  not  a  fractional 
thing  that  can  be  doled  out  in  fixed  weekly  or 
daily  measures  as  one  among  various  subjects 
in  the  school  syllabus.  It  is  the  truth  of  our 
complete  being,  the  consciousness  of  our  per- 
sonal relationship  with  the  infinite ;  it  is  the  true 
centre  of  gravity  of  our  life.  This  we  can  attain 
during  our  childhood  by  daily  living  in  a  place 
where  the  truth  of  the  spiritual  world  is  not  ob- 
scured by  a  crowd  of  necessities  assuming  arti- 
ficial importance ;  where  life  is  simple,  surrounded 


MY    SCHOOL  165 

by  fulness  of  leisure,  by  ample  space  and  pure 
air  and  profound  peace  of  nature;  and  where 
men  live  with  a  perfect  faith  in  the  eternal  life 
before  them. 

But  the  question  will  be  asked  whether  I 
have  attained  my  ideal  in  this  institution.  My 
answer  is  that  the  attainment  of  all  our  deepest 
ideals  is  difficult  to  measure  by  outward  stand- 
ards. Its  working  is  not  immediately  perceptible 
by  results.  We  have  fully  admitted  the  inequali- 
ties and  varieties  of  human  life  in  our  ashram. 
We  never  try  to  gain  some  kind  of  outward  uni- 
formity by  weeding  out  the  differences  of  nature 
and  training  of  our  members.  Some  of  us  belong 
to  the  Brahma  Samaj  sect  and  some  to  other  sects 
of  Hinduism ;  and  some  of  us  are  Christians.  Be- 
cause we  do  not  deal  with  creeds  and  dogmas  of 
sectarianism,  therefore  this  heterogeneity  of  our 
religious  beliefs  does  not  present  us  with  any 
difficulty  whatever.  This  also  I  know,  that  the 
feeling  of  respect  for  the  ideal  of  this  place  and 
the  life  lived  here  greatly  varies  in  depth  and 
earnestness  among  those  who  have  gathered  in 


166  PERSONALITY 

this  ashram.  I  know  that  our  aspiration  for  a 
higher  life  has  not  risen  far  above  our  greed  for 
worldly  goods  and  reputation.  Yet  I  am  per- 
fectly certain,  and  proofs  of  it  are  numerous, 
that  the  ideal  of  the  ashram  is  sinking  deeper 
and  deeper  into  our  nature  every  day.  The  tun- 
ing of  our  life's  strings  into  purer  spiritual  notes 
is  going  on  without  our  being  aware  of  it.  What- 
ever might  be  our  original  motive  in  coming  here, 
the  call  sounds  without  ceasing  through  all  our 
clamour  of  discords,  the  call  of  shdntam,  shivam, 
advaitam,  —  the  All  Peace,  the  All  Good,  and  the 
One.  The  sky  here  seems  penetrated  with  the 
voice  of  the  infinite,  making  the  peace  of  its  day- 
break and  stillness  of  its  night  profound  with 
meaning,  and  sending  through  the  white  crowds 
of  shiuli  flowers  in  the  autumn  and  malati  in  the 
summer,  the  message  of  self-dedication  in  the 
perfect  beauty  of  worship. 

It  will  be  difficult  for  others  than  Indians 
to  realize  all  the  associations  that  are  grouped 
round  the  word  ashram,  the  forest  sanctuary. 
For   it  blossomed   in   India   like   its   own   lotus, 


MY    SCHOOL  167 

under  a  sky  generous  in  its  sunlight  and  starry 
splendour.  India's  climate  has  brought  to  us 
the  invitation  of  the  open  air;  the  language  of 
her  mighty  rivers  is  solemn  in  their  chants ;  the 
limitless  expanse  of  her  plains  encircles  our  homes 
with  the  silence  of  the  world  beyond;  there 
the  sun  rises  from  the  marge  of  the  green  earth 
like  an  offering  of  the  unseen  to  the  altar  of  the 
Unknown,  and  it  goes  down  to  the  west  at  the 
end  of  the  day  like  a  gorgeous  ceremony  of  na- 
ture's salutation  to  the  Eternal.  In  India  the 
shades  of  the  trees  are  hospitable,  the  dust  of 
the  earth  stretches  its  brown  arms  to  us,  the 
air  with  its  embraces  clothes  us  with  warmth. 
These  are  the  unchanging  facts  that  ever  carry 
their  suggestions  to  our  minds,  and  therefore 
we  feel  it  is  India's  mission  to  realize  the  truth 
of  the  human  soul  in  the  Supreme  Soul  through 
its  union  with  the  soul  of  the  world.  This  mission 
had  taken  its  natural  form  in  the  forest  schools 
in  the  ancient  time.  And  it  still  urges  us  to 
seek  for  the  vision  of  the  infinite  in  all  forms  of 
creation,  in  the  human  relationships  of  love,  to 


168  PERSONALITY 

feel  it  in  the  air  we  breathe,  in  the  light  in  which 
we  open  our  eyes,  in  the  water  in  which  we  bathe, 
in  the  earth  on  which  we  live  and  die.  There- 
fore I  know  —  and  I  know  it  from  my  own  experi- 
ence, —  that  the  students  and  the  teachers  who 
have  come  together  in  this  ashram  are  daily  growing 
towards  the  emancipation  of  their  minds  into  the 
consciousness  of  the  infinite,  not  through  any  pro- 
cess of  teaching  or  outer  discipline,  but  by  the  help 
of  an  unseen  atmosphere  of  aspiration  that  sur- 
rounds the  place  and  the  memory  of  a  devoted  soul 
who  lived  here  in  intimate  communion  with  God. 
I  hope  I  have  been  able  to  explain  how  the 
conscious  purpose  that  led  me  to  found  my  school 
in  the  ashram  gradually  lost  its  independence 
and  grew  into  unity  with  the  purpose  that  reigns 
in  this  place.  In  a  word  my  work  found  its  soul 
in  the  spirit  of  the  ashram.  But  that  soul  has 
its  outer  form,  no  doubt,  which  is  its  aspect  of 
the  school.  And  in  the  teaching  system  of  this 
school  I  have  been  trying  all  these  years  to  carry 
out  my  theory  of  education  based  upon  my 
experience  of  children's  minds. 


MY    SCHOOL  169 

I  believe,  as  I  suggested  before,  that  children 
have  their  subconscious  mind  more  active  than 
their  conscious  intelligence.  A  vast  quantity 
of  the  most  important  of  our  lessons  has  been 
taught  to  us  through  this.  Experiences  of  count- 
less generations  have  been  instilled  into  our 
nature  by  its  agency,  not  only  without  causing 
us  any  fatigue,  but  giving  us  joy.  This  sub- 
conscious faculty  of  knowledge  is  completely 
one  with  our  life.  It  is  not  like  a  lantern  that 
can  be  lighted  and  trimmed  from  outside,  but  it 
is  like  the  light  that  the  glow-worm  possesses 
by  the  exercise  of  its  life  process. 

Fortunately  for  me  I  was  brought  up  in  a 
family  where  literature,  music  and  art  had  be- 
come instinctive.  My  brothers  and  cousins  lived 
in  the  freedom  of  ideas,  and  most  of  them  had 
natural  artistic  powers.  Nourished  in  these  sur- 
roundings, I  began  to  think  early  and  to  dream 
and  to  put  my  thoughts  into  expression.  In 
religion  and  social  ideals  our  family  was  free 
from  all  convention,  being  ostracized  by  society 
owing    to    our    secession    from    orthodox    beliefs 


170  PERSONALITY 

and  customs.  This  made  us  fearless  in  our  free- 
dom of  mind,  and  we  tried  experiments  in  all 
departments  of  life.  This  was  the  education 
I  had  in  my  early  days,  freedom  and  joy  in  the 
exercise  of  my  mental  and  artistic  faculties. 
And  because  this  made  my  mind  fully  alive  to 
grow  in  its  natural  environment  of  nutrition, 
therefore  the  grinding  of  school  system  became 
so  extremely  intolerable  to  me. 

I  had  only  this  experience  of  my  early  life  to 
help  me  when  I  started  my  school.  I  felt  sure 
that  what  was  most  necessary  was  the  breath  of 
culture  and  no  formal  method  of  teaching.  For- 
tunately for  me,  Satish  Chandra  Roy,  a  young 
student  of  great  promise,  who  was  getting  ready 
for  his  B.A.  degree,  became  attracted  to  my 
school  and  devoted  his  life  to  carry  out  my  idea. 
He  was  barely  nineteen,  but  he  had  a  wonderful 
soul,  living  in  a  world  of  ideas,  keenly  responsive 
to  all  that  was  beautiful  and  great  in  the  realm 
of  nature  and  of  human  mind.  He  was  a  poet 
who  would  surely  have  taken  his  place  among 
the  immortals  of  world-literature  if  he  had  been 


MY    SCHOOL  171 

spared  to  live,  but  he  died  when  he  was  twenty, 
thus  offering  his  service  to  our  school  only  for 
the  period  of  one  short  year.  With  him  boys 
never  felt  that  they  were  confined  in  the  limit 
of  a  teaching  class;  they  seemed  to  have  their 
access  to  everywhere.  They  would  go  with  him 
to  the  forest  when  in  the  spring  the  sal  trees  were 
in  full  blossom  and  he  would  recite  to  them  his 
favorite  poems,  frenzied  with  excitement.  He 
used  to  read  to  them  Shakespeare  and  even  Brown- 
ing,—  for  he  was  a  great  lover  of  Browning, — 
explaining  to  them  in  Bengali  with  his  wonderful 
power  of  expression.  He  never  had  any  feeling 
of  distrust  for  boys'  capacity  of  understanding; 
he  would  talk  and  read  to  them  about  whatever 
was  the  subject  in  which  he  himself  was  inter- 
ested. He  knew  that  it  was  not  at  all  necessary 
for  the  boys  to  understand  literally  and  accu- 
rately, but  that  their  minds  should  be  roused,  and 
in  this  he  was  always  successful.  He  was  not 
like  other  teachers,  a  mere  vehicle  of  text-books. 
He  made  his  teaching  personal,  he  himself  was 
the  source  of  it,  and  therefore  it  was  made  of 


172  PERSONALITY 

life  stuff,  easily  assimilable  by  the  living  human 
nature.  The  real  reason  of  his  success  was  his 
intense  interest  in  life,  in  ideas,  in  everything 
around  him,  in  the  boys  who  came  in  contact 
with  him.  He  had  his  inspiration  not  through 
the  medium  of  books,  but  through  the  direct 
communication  of  his  sensitive  mind  with  the 
world.  The  seasons  had  upon  him  the  same  effect 
as  they  had  upon  the  plants.  He  seemed  to  feel 
in  his  blood  the  unseen  messages  of  nature  that 
are  always  travelling  through  space,  floating  in 
the  air,  shimmering  in  the  sky,  tingling  in  the 
roots  of  the  grass  under  the  earth.  The  litera- 
ture that  he  studied  had  not  the  least  smell  of 
the  library  about  it.  He  had  the  power  to  see 
ideas  before  him,  as  he  could  see  his  friends,  with 
all  the  distinctness  of  form  and  subtlety  of  life. 

Thus  the  boys  of  our  school  were  fortunate 
enough  to  be  able  to  receive  their  lessons  from 
a  living  teacher  and  not  from  text-books.  Have 
not  our  books,  like  most  of  our  necessaries,  come 
between  us  and  our  world  ?  We  have  got  into 
the  habit  of  covering  the  windows  of  our  minds 


MY    SCHOOL  173 

with  their  pages,  and  plasters  of  book  phrases 
have  stuck  into  our  mental  skin,  making  it 
impervious  of  all  direct  touches  of  truth.  A 
whole  world  of  bookish  truths  have  formed 
themselves  into  a  strong  citadel  with  rings  of 
walls  in  which  we  have  taken  shelter,  secured 
from  the  communication  of  God's  creation.  Of 
course,  it  would  be  foolish  to  underrate  the  ad- 
vantages of  the  book.  But  at  the  same  time  we 
must  admit  that  the  book  has  its  limitations  and 
its  dangers.  At  any  rate  during  the  early  period 
of  education  children  should  come  to  their  lesson 
of  truths  through  natural  processes  —  directly 
through  persons  and  things. 

Being  convinced  of  this,  I  have  set  all  my  re- 
sources to  create  an  atmosphere  of  ideas  in  the 
ashram.  Songs  are  composed,  not  specially  made 
to  order  for  juvenile  minds.  They  are  songs 
that  a  poet  writes  for  his  own  pleasure.  In  fact, 
most  of  my  "  Gitanjali "  songs  were  written  here. 
These,  when  fresh  in  their  first  bloom,  are  sung 
to  the  boys,  and  they  come  in  crowds  to  learn 
them.     They   sing   them   in   their   leisure   hours, 


174  PERSONALITY 

sitting  in  groups,  under  the  open  sky  on  moon- 
light nights,  in  the  shadows  of  the  impending 
rain  in  July.  All  my  latter-day  plays  have  been 
written  here,  and  the  boys  have  taken  part  in 
their  performance.  Lyrical  dramas  have  been 
written  for  their  season-festivals.  They  have 
ready  access  to  the  room  where  I  read  to  the 
teachers  any  new  things  that  I  write  in  prose  or 
in  verse,  whatever  the  subject  may  be.  And  this 
they  utilize  without  the  least  pressure  put  upon 
them,  feeling  aggrieved  when  not  invited.  A  few 
weeks  before  leaving  India  I  read  to  them  Brown- 
ing's drama  "Luria,"  translating  it  into  Bengali 
as  I  went  on.  It  took  me  two  evenings,  but  the 
second  meeting  was  as  full  as  the  first  one.  Those 
who  have  witnessed  these  boys  playing  their 
parts  in  dramatic  performances  have  been  struck 
with  their  wonderful  power  as  actors.  It  is 
because  they  are  never  directly  trained  in  the 
histrionic  art.  They  instinctively  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  the  plays  in  which  they  take  part,  though 
these  plays  are  no  mere  school-boy  dramas. 
They    require    subtle    understanding    and    sym- 


MY    SCHOOL  175 

pathy.  With  all  the  anxiety  and  hypercritical 
sensitiveness  of  an  author  about  the  performance 
of  his  own  play  I  have  never  been  disappointed 
in  my  boys,  and  I  have  rarely  allowed  teachers 
to  interfere  with  the  boys'  own  representation 
of  the  characters.  Very  often  they  themselves 
write  plays  or  improvise  them  and  we  are  invited 
to  their  performance.  They  hold  meetings  of 
their  literary  clubs  and  they  have  at  least  three 
illustrated  magazines  conducted  by  three  sec- 
tions of  the  school,  the  most  interesting  of  them 
being  that  of  the  infant  section.  A  number  of 
our  boys  have  shown  remarkable  powers  in 
drawing  and  painting,  developed  not  through  the 
orthodox  method  of  copying  models,  but  by  fol- 
lowing their  own  bent  and  by  the  help  of  occa- 
sional visits  from  some  artists  to  inspire  the  boys 
with  their  own  work. 

When  I  first  started  my  school,  my  boys  had 
no  evident  love  for  music.  The  consequence  is 
that  at  the  beginning  I  did  not  employ  a  music 
teacher  and  did  not  force  the  boys  to  take  music 
lessons.     I    merely    created    opportunities  when 


176  PERSONALITY 

those  of  us  who  had  the  gift  could  exercise  their 
musical  culture.  It  had  the  effect  of  uncon- 
sciously training  the  ears  of  the  boys.  And  when 
gradually  most  of  them  showed  a  strong  inclina- 
tion and  love  for  music  I  saw  that  they  would  be 
willing  to  subject  themselves  to  formal  teaching, 
and  it  was  then  that  I  secured  a  music  teacher. 

In  our  school  the  boys  rise  very  early  in  the 
morning,  sometimes  before  it  is  light.  They 
attend  to  the  drawing  of  water  for  their  bath. 
They  make  up  their  beds.  They  do  all  those 
things  that  tend  to  cultivate  the  spirit  of  self- 
help. 

I  believe  in  the  hour  of  meditation,  and  I  set 
aside  fifteen  minutes  in  the  morning  and  fifteen 
minutes  in  the  evening  for  that  purpose.  I 
insist  on  this  period  of  meditation,  not  however 
expecting  the  boys  to  be  hypocrites  and  to  make 
believe  they  are  meditating.  But  I  do  insist  that 
they  remain  quiet,  that  they  exert  the  power  of 
self-control,  even  though  instead  of  contemplat- 
ing on  God,  they  may  be  watching  the  squirrels 
running  up  the  trees. 


MY    SCHOOL  177 

Any  description  of  such  a  school  is  necessarily 
inadequate.  For  the  most  important  element  of 
it  is  the  atmosphere,  also  the  fact  that  it  is  not 
a  school  which  is  imposed  upon  the  boys  by  auto- 
cratic authorities.  I  always  try  to  impress  upon 
their  minds  that  it  is  their  own  world,  upon  which 
their  life  ought  fully  and  freely  to  react.  In  the 
school  administration  they  have  their  place,  and 
in  the  matter  of  punishment  we  mostly  rely  upon 
their  own  court  of  justice. 

In  conclusion  I  warn  my  hearers  not  to  carry 
away  with  them  any  false  or  exaggerated  picture 
of  this  ashram.  When  ideas  are  stated  in  a  paper, 
they  appear  too  simple  and  complete.  But  in 
reality  their  manifestation  through  the  materials 
that  are  living  and  varied  and  ever  changing  is 
not  so  clear  and  perfect.  We  have  obstacles 
in  human  nature  and  in  outer  circumstances. 
Some  of  us  have  a  feeble  faith  in  boys'  minds 
as  living  organisms,  and  some  have  the  natural 
propensity  of  doing  good  by  force.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  boys  have  their  different  degrees 
of  receptivity  and  there  are  a  good  number  of 


178  PERSONALITY 

inevitable  failures.  Delinquencies  make  their 
appearance  unexpectedly,  making  us  suspicious 
as  to  the  efficacy  of  our  own  ideals.  We  pass 
through  dark  periods  of  doubt  and  reaction.  But 
these  conflicts  arid  waverings  belong  to  the  true 
aspects  of  reality.  Living  ideals  can  never  be 
set  into  a  clockwork  arrangement,  giving  accurate 
account  of  its  every  second.  And  those  who  have 
firm  faith  in  their  idea  have  to  test  its  truth  in 
discords  and  failures  that  are  sure  to  come  to 
tempt  them  from  their  path.  I  for  my  part 
believe  in  the  principle  of  life,  in  the  soul  of  man, 
more  than  in  methods.  I  believe  that  the  object 
of  education  is  the  freedom  of  mind  which  can 
only  be  achieved  through  the  path  of  freedom  — 
though  freedom  has  its  risk  and  responsibility 
as  life  itself  has.  I  know  it  for  certain,  though 
most  people  seem  to  have  forgotten  it,  that  chil- 
dren are  living  beings  —  more  living  than  grown- 
up people,  who  have  built  their  shells  of  habit 
around  them.  Therefore  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
for  their  mental  health  and  development  that 
they  must  not  have  mere  schools  for  their  lessons, 


MY    SCHOOL  179 

but  a  world  whose  guiding  spirit  is  personal  love. 
It  must  be  an  ashram  where  men  have  gathered 
for  the  highest  end  of  life,  in  the  peace  of  nature ; 
where  life  is  not  merely  meditative,  but  fully 
awake  in  its  activities,  where  boys'  minds  are 
not  being  perpetually  drilled  into  believing  that 
the  ideal  of  the  self-idolatry  of  the  nation  is  the 
truest  ideal  for  them  to  accept;  where  they  are 
bidden  to  realize  man's  world  as  God's  King- 
dom to  whose  citizenship  they  have  to  aspire ; 
where  the  sunrise  and  sunset  and  the  silent  glory 
of  stars  are  not  daily  ignored ;  where  nature's 
festivities  of  flowers  and  fruit  have  their  joyous 
recognition  from  man;  and  where  the  young 
and  the  old,  the  teacher  and  the  student,  sit  at 
the  same  table  to  partake  of  their  daily  food  and 
the  food  of  their  eternal  life. 


MEDITATION 


MEDITATION 

There  are  things  that  we  get  from  outside 
and  take  to  ourselves  as  possessions.  But  with 
meditation,  it  is  just  the  opposite.  It  is  enter- 
ing into  the  very  midst  of  some  great  truth,  so 
that,  in  the  end,  we  are  possessed  by  it. 

Now  let  us  see  by  contrast  what  wealth  is. 
Money  represents  so  much  labour.  By  its 
means  I  can  detach  the  labour  from  man  and 
make  it  my  own  possession.  I  acquire  it  from 
outside  and  convert  it  to  my  own  power. 

Then  there  is  knowledge.  One  kind  of  knowl- 
edge is  that  which  we  gain  from  other  men. 
Then  there  is  the  other  kind  which  we  acquire 
through  observation,  experiments  and  the  process 
of  reasoning. 

These  are  all  efforts  to  take  that  which  is  away 
from  me,  and  get  it  to  myself.  In  these  things 
our  mental  and  physical  energies  are  employed  in 
quite  a  contrary  manner  from  in  Meditation. 

183 


184  PERSONALITY 

The  highest  truth  is  that  which  we  can  only 
realize  by  plunging  into  it.  And  when  our 
consciousness  is  fully  merged  in  it,  then  we  know 
that  it  is  no  mere  acquisition,  but  that  we  are 
one  with  it. 

Thus  through  meditation,  when  our  soul  is  in 
its  true  relation  to  the  Supreme  Truth,  then  all 
our  actions,  words,  behaviour,  become  true. 

Let  me  give  you  a  text  of  meditation  which 
we  have  used  in  India. 

Om  bhur  bhuvah  svah 

tat  savitur  varenyam  bhargo  devasya  dhimahi 
dhiyo  yo  nah  prachodayat. 

OM.  That  means  completeness;  it  is  really 
the  symbolical  word  meaning  the  Infinite,  the 
Perfect,  the  Eternal.  The  very  sound  is  com- 
plete, representing  the  wholeness  of  all  things. 

All  our  meditations  begin  with  OM  and,  end 
with  OM.  It  is  used  so  that  the  mind  may  be 
filled  with  the  sense  of  the  infinite  Completeness 
and  emancipated  from  the  world  of  narrow 
selfishness. 

Bhur  bhuvah  svah. 


MEDITATION  185 

Bhuh  means  this  earth. 

Bhuvah  means  the  middle  region,  the  sky. 

Svah  means  the  starry  region. 

The  earth,  the  air,  the  starry  region.  You 
have  to  set  your  mind  in  the  heart  of  this  uni- 
verse. You  have  to  realize  that  you  are  born 
in  the  Infinite,  that  you  belong  not  merely  to  a 
particular  spot  of  this  earth,  but  to  the  whole 
world. 

Tat  savitur  varenyam  bhargo  devasya  dhimahi. 

I  meditate  upon  that  adorable  Energy  of  the 
Creator  of  the  Universe.  The  word  " Creator" 
has  dulled  in  meaning  by  its  constant  use.  But 
you  have  to  bring  into  your  conscious  vision 
the  vastness  of  the  all,  and  then  say  that  God 
creates  this  world,  from  his  infinite  creative 
power,  at  every  moment  of  time  continuously, 
not  by  a  single  act. 

All  this  represents  the  infinite  will  of  the  Crea- 
tor. It  is  not  like  the  law  of  Gravitation,  or 
some  abstract  thing  which  I  cannot  worship, 
and  which  cannot  claim  our  worship.  But  this 
text  says  that  the  power  is  "adorable,"  that  it 


186  PERSONALITY 

claims  our  worship  because  it  belongs  to  a  su- 
preme person,  it  is  not  a  mere  abstraction. 

What  is  the  manifestation  of  this  power  ? 

On  one  side  it  is  the  Earth,  the  Sky,  the  Starry 
Heavens  ;  on  the  other  side  it  is  our  consciousness. 

There  is  an  eternal  connection  between  my- 
self and  the  world,  because  this  world  has  its 
other  side  in  my  consciousness.  If  there  were 
no  conscious  being  and  no  Supreme  Conscious- 
ness at  its  source  and  centre,  there  could  not 
be  a  world. 

God's  power  emanates  and  streams  forth  as 
consciousness  in  me  and  also  in  the  world  out- 
side. We  ourselves  generally  divide  it,  but 
really  these  two  sides  of  creation  are  intimately 
related  as  they  proceed  from  the  same  source. 

Thus  this  Meditation  means  that  my  con- 
sciousness and  the  vast  world  outside  me  are 
one.     And  where  is  that  Unity? 

In  that  Great  Power,  who  breathes  out  Con- 
sciousness in  me,  and  also  in  the  world  outside 
myself. 

Meditation  upon  this  is  not  taking  anything 


MEDITATION  187 

to  myself,  but  renouncing  myself,  becoming  one 
with  all  creation. 

This  then  is  our  text  and  we  set  our  minds  to 
it,  • —  repeating  it  again  and  again  till  our  mind 
becomes  settled  and  distractions  leave  us.  There 
is  then  no  loss,  no  fear,  no  pain  that  can  affect 
us  —  our  relationship  with  men  becomes  simple, 
natural  —  we  are  free.  This  then  is  the  Medi- 
tation —  to  plunge  into  this  truth,  to  live  and 
move  and  have  our  being  in  this. 

Let  me  tell  you  about  another  text  which 
we  use  in  our  school  for  the  boys  to  meditate 
upon  and  to  use  for  their  daily  prayer. 

Om  pita  no'si,  pita  no  bodhi.     Namaste'stu. 

Pita  no'si. 

Thou  art  our  Father. 

Pita  no  bodhi.  Give  us  the  "bodh,"  the 
consciousness,  the  awakening  in  this,  —  that  thou 
art  our  Father. 

Namaste'stu. 

Namah  has  no  proper  synonym  in  English, 
though  perhaps  "bow"  or  "salutation"  gives 
its  meaning  as  nearly  as  may  be. 


188  PERSONALITY 

My   namah  to  thee  —  Let  it  become  true. 

This  is  the  first  portion  of  the  text,  which 
our  boys  use. 

Let  me  explain  what  I  understand  by  it. 

Pita  no'si.  The  text  begins  with  the  asser- 
tion that  God   is  our   Father. 

But  this  truth  has  not  yet  been  realized  in 
our  life,  and  this  is  the  cause  of  our  imperfec- 
tions, miseries  and  sins.  Therefore  we  pray 
that  we  may  be  able  to  realize  it  in  our  con- 
sciousness, and  so  we  pray  that  we  may  be  able 
to  do  so. 

Then  it  ends  with  "Namaste."  Let  my 
"Namah"  be  true.  Because  that  Namah  is 
the  true  attitude.  When  I  have  fully  realized 
this  great  truth,  —  Pita  no'si,  —  then  my  life 
expresses  its  own  truth  by  its  Namah,  by  its 
humility,  by  its  self-surrender,  in  the  meek 
feeling  of  adoration. 

In  our  prayers  we  sometimes  use  words  which 
satisfy  us  though  we  merely  mechanically  utter 
them  without  applying  our  whole  mind  to  realize 
their  fulness.     "Father"  is  one  of  these  words. 


At  Salt  Lake  City. 


MEDITATION  189 

Therefore  in  our  meditation  we  have  to  under- 
stand more  deeply  what  it  means  and  so  to  put 
our  heart  in  harmony  with  its  truth. 

We  can  take  this  world  as  it  appears  to  us 
through  the  medium  of  laws.  We  can  have 
the  idea  of  the  world  in  our  mind,  as  a  world 
of  force  and  matter,  and  then  our  relation  to 
it  becomes  merely  the  mechanical  relation  of 
science.  But,  in  that  case,  we  miss  the  high- 
est truth  that  is  in  man.  For  what  is  man  ? 
He  is  a  personal  being.  Law  does  not  take 
account  of  that.  Law  is  about  the  physiology 
of  our  body,  the  psychology  of  our  minds,  the 
mechanism  of  our  being.  And  when  we  come 
to  our  personal  nature,  we  do  not  know  any  law 
which  explains  it.  Therefore  Science  ignores 
the  very  basis  of  truth  about  ourselves.  The 
whole  world  becomes  a  machine,  and  then  there 
can  be  no  question  of  looking  upon  the  Creator 
as  Father,  or  as  we  Indians  often  call  him, 
"Mother." 

If  we  look  upon  this  world  merely  as  a  combi- 
nation of  forces,  then  there  can  be  no  question 


igo  PERSONALITY 

of  worship.  But  we  are  not  merely  physical 
or  psychological.  We  are  men  and  women. 
And  we  must  find  out,  in  the  whole  world,  the 
infinite    meaning   of   this,    that   we    are    men. 

That  my  body  exists,  Science  explains  by 
universal  laws.  So  that  I  find  my  body  to  be, 
not  an  isolated  fact  of  creation,  but  a  part  of 
a  great  whole.  Then  I  find  that  even  my  mind 
thinks  in  harmony  with  all  that  happens  in  the 
world ;  and  so  I  can  find  out  by  the  help  of  my 
mind  all  those  great  laws  which  govern  the  universe. 

But  Science  asks  me  to  stop  there.  For 
Science,  the  laws  of  body  and  mind  have  their 
background  in  the  universe,  but  personality 
has  none.  But  we  feel  that  we  cannot  accept 
this.  For  if  this  personality  has  no  eternal 
relation  to  truth  which  everything  else  has, 
then  what  chimera  of  chance  is  it  ?  Why  is  it 
at  all  in  this  world,  and  how  ?  This  fact  of 
my  person  must  have  the  truth  of  the  infinite 
person  to  support  it.  We  have  come  to  this 
great  discovery  by  the  immediate  perception  of 
this  "  I "  in  us,  that  there  must  be  one  infinite  "  I. " 


MEDITATION  191 

Then  comes  our  question,  "How  are  we  related 
to  this  Person?"  Man  has  got  this  answer 
in  his  heart  of  heart,  that  it  is  the  closest  of  all 
relationships,  —  the  relationship  of  love. 

It  cannot  be  otherwise,  because  relationship 
becomes  perfect  only  when  it  is  that  of  love. 

The  relation  of  king  and  subject,  master 
and  servant,  lawgiver  and  those  who  obey  the 
law,  —  these  are  partial  relations  for  one  par- 
ticular use.  The  whole  being  is  not  involved. 
But  this  personal  "I"  must  have  perfect  rela- 
tionship with  the  Infinite  Personality.  It  can- 
not be  otherwise.  Because  we  have  loved  and 
find  in  love  the  infinite  satisfaction  of  our  per- 
sonality, therefore  we  have  come  to  know  that 
our  relationship  to  the  Infinite  Personality  is 
that  of  love.  And  in  this  way  man  has  learned 
to  say  "Our  Father,"  not  merely  King,  or  Mas- 
ter, but  Father. 

That  is  to  say,  there  is  something  in  Him  which 
we  share,  —  something  common  between  this 
Eternal  Person   and  this  finite  little  person. 

But   still   the   question   remains,   Why   should 


192  PERSONALITY 

I  use  the  word  "Father"  which  represents  the 
personal  relation  of  human  beings  ?  Why  can- 
not we  invent  another  word  ?  Is  it  not  too 
finite  and  small  ? 

The  word  Father  in  our  Sanskrit  language 
includes  Mother.  Very  often  we  use  this  word 
in  its  dual  form,  "Pitaru,"  meaning  "father  and 
mother."  Man  is  born  in  the  arms  of  the 
Mother.  We  have  not  come  merely  as  the 
rain  comes  from  the  cloud.  The  great  fact  is 
that  I  am  ushered  into  this  life  in  the  arms  of 
my  mother  and  father.  This  shows  that  the 
idea  of  the  personality  is  already  there.  Herein 
we  find  our  relation  to  the  Infinite  Person.  We 
know  that  we  are  born  of  love  —  our  relation- 
ship is  of  love,  and  we  feel  that  our  father  and 
mother  are  the  true  symbols  of  our  eternal  rela- 
tionship with  God.  I  have  to  realize  this  truth 
every  moment.  I  have  to  know  that  I  am  eter- 
nally related  to  my  Father.  Then  I  rise  above 
the  trivialities  of  things,  and  the  whole  world 
acquires  meaning  for  me. 

Therefore   the  first  prayer  is   to   realize   God 


MEDITATION  193 

as  Pita.  Thou  who  createst  the  infinite  world 
of  stars  and  worlds,  Thou  art  beyond  me,  but 
I  know  one  thing  intimately,  Thou  art  Pita, 
Father. 

The  baby  does  not  know  all  about  its  mother's 
activities,  but  it  knows  that  she  is    its  mother. 

So  I  do  not  know  other  things  about  God, 
but  I  know  this,  Thou  art  my  Father. 

Let  all  my  consciousness  burn  like  fire  with 
this  idea,  Thou  art  my  Father.  Every  day  let 
this  be  the  one  centre  of  all  my  thoughts,  That 
the  Supreme  Person  ruling  all  the  Universe  is 
my  Father. 

Pita  no  bodhi.  Let  me  wake  up  in  the  light 
of  this  great  truth  —  Thou  art  my  Father. 

Like  a  naked  child  let  me  place  all  my  thoughts 
in  Thy  arms  for  Thy  care  and  protection  through 
the  day. 

And  then  Namah.    . 

My  complete  self-surrender  will  become  true. 
This  is  the  highest  joy  of  man's  love. 

Namaste,  namah  to  Thee  —  let  it  be  true. 

I  am  related  to  the  Infinite  "I  am"  and  so 


194  PERSONALITY 

my  true  attitude  is  not  that  of  pride,  or  self- 
satisfaction,  but  of  self-surrender.     Namaste'stu. 

I  have  not  finished  the  whole  of  the  text  which 
my  boys  use  for  their  prayer  and  meditation. 

You  must  remember  that  this  prayer  has 
been  gathered  from  different  places  of  our  old- 
est Scriptures  —  the  Vedas.  They  are  not  to 
be  found  in  one  consecutive  order  in  any  one 
place.  But  my  father,  who  had  dedicated  his 
life  to  the  worship  of  God,  collected  these  words 
from  the  immortal  storehouse  of  inexhaustible 
wisdom  —  the  Vedas  and  Upanishads. 

The  next  line  is  this: 

Ma  ma  himsi.     Do  not  smite  me  with  death. 

We  shall  have  fully  to  understand  what  this 
means.  You  have  heard  me  say  that  in  this 
first  line  it  has  been  said,  "Thou  art  my  Father." 
This  truth  is  everywhere.  We  have  to  be  born 
into  this  great  idea  of  the  Father.  That  is  the 
end  and  object  of  man,  the  fulfilment  of  his  life. 

Though  it  is  true  that  we  are  eternally  related 
to  our  Father,  yet  there  is  some  barrier  which 
prevents  the  full  realization  of  this  truth,   and 


MEDITATION  195 

this  is  the  greatest  source  of  suffering  to  man. 
The  animals  —  they  have  their  pain,  they  suffer 
from  the  attacks  of  enemies  and  physical  im- 
perfection, and  this  suffering  urges  them  still 
more  to  strive  to  fulfil  the  wants  of  their  natural 
life  and  struggle  against  these  obstacles.  This 
in  itself  is  a  matter  of  joy.  And  we  can  be  sure 
that  they  truly  enjoy  their  life,  because  through 
this  impulse  they  struggle  against  obstacles  and 
this  rouses  their  whole  vitality.  Otherwise  they 
would  be  like  the  vegetable  world.  Life  must 
have  for  its  fulfilment  its  obstacles,  and  by  con- 
tinual fighting  against  these  obstacles  of  matter, 
life  realizes  its  own  supremacy  and  dignity.  But 
all  these  obstacles  come  to  them  with  the  ac- 
companiment of  the  sensation  of  pain. 

But  with  human  beings  there  is  another  source 
of  suffering  still  deeper.  We  also  have  to  seek 
our  livelihood  and  hold  ourselves  against  all  the 
enmities  of  nature  and  man.  But  that  is  not 
all.  —  The  wonder  of  it  is  that  man,  being  born 
in  the  same  world  as  the  animals,  and  having 
the  same  vital  questions  to  deal  with,  still  has 


196  PERSONALITY 

something  else  for  which  he  struggles  and  cares, 
which  is  not  quite  definitely  realized.  It  comes 
to  us  in  glimpses,  and  when  we  are  in  wealth, 
wallowing  in  prosperity,  or  luxury  or  ease,  — 
when  we  are  surrounded  by  all  the  things  of  the 
world,  —  still  men  feel  that  it  is  not  sufficient 
for  them,  and  there  rings  out  the  prayer,  not 
to  the  natural  forces  of  the  earth,  —  such  as  air, 
fire,  —  but  to  some  being  whom  man  has  not 
fully  realized  or  known.  His  prayer  rings  out: 
"Save  me"  —  uO  do  not  smite  me  with  death." 

It  is  not  the  physical  death,  because  we  all 
know  that  we  must  die,  and  so  the  prayer  to  our 
Father  is  not  for  our  physical  immortality. 
Man  has  felt  in  himself  instinctively  that  this 
life  is  not  final,  —  that  he  must  strive  for  the 
higher  life.  And  then  he  cries  to  God  —  Do 
not  leave  me  in  this  region  of  death.  It  does 
not  satisfy  my  soul.  I  eat  and  sleep,  but  I  am 
not  satisfied.  I  do  not  find  my  good  in  this  —  I 
starve.  As  the  child's  cry  is  for  the  mother's 
food,  which  she  supplies  out  of  her  own  life,  so 
we  cry  to  the  eternal  Mother,  "Do  not  smite  me 


MEDITATION  197 

with  death,"  but  give  me  the  life  which  comes 
out  of  thy  own  nature.  —  This  is  the  cry  —  I 
am  starving.  My  soul  is  smitten  with  death 
because  it  finds  no  sustenance  in  its  surroundings. 

Vishvani  deva  savitar  duritani  parasuva. 

O  God,  my  Father,  the  world  of  sins  remove 
from  me.  When  this  life  of  self  wants  to  get 
everything  for  itself,  then  it  gets  knocked  and 
knocked,  because  it  is  unnatural,  because  its 
true  life  is  the  life  of  freedom,  because  it  hurts 
its  wings  against  the  prison  cage.  The  Prison 
is  unmeaning  to  the  soul.  It  cries  out  in  its 
prison,  "I  do  not  find  my  fulfilment."  It  knocks 
itself  against  the  prison  bars  and  from  these 
knocks  and  pains  our  soul  is  fully  aware  that 
truth  is  not  of  this  life  of  self,  but  of  the  larger 
life  of  soul.  From  this  comes  our  suffering, 
and  we  say:  "Break  open  this  prison.  I  do  not 
want  this  self."  "Break  all  the  sins,  selfish 
desires,  cravings  of  self,  and  own  me  as  your 
child,  —  your  child,  not  the  child  of  this  world 
of  death." 

This   is   the  prayer  when  we  want  to   realize 


198  PERSONALITY 

full  consciousness  of  life  in  our  Father.  The 
greatest  obstacle  is  the  selfish  life.  Therefore 
the  prayer  of  man  to  God  is  not  for  worldly 
goods,  but  for  the  establishment  of  complete 
relationship  with  the  Father. 

Yad  bhadran  tan  na  asuva.  What  is  good 
give  us. 

We  very  often  utter  this  prayer  and  ask  our 
Father  to  give  us  what  is  good,  but  we  do  not 
know  what  a  terrible  prayer  it  is  if  we  were  to 
receive  its  full  answer.  There  are  very  few  of 
us  who,  when  realizing  what  is  the  highest  good, 
can  ask  for  it.  Only  he  can  do  that  who  has  been 
able  to  make  his  life  pure,  free  from  the  shackles 
of  evil,  who  can  fearlessly  ask  God  to  fulfil  his 
work,  who  can  say,  "I  have  cleansed  my  mind 
and  got  rid  of  impulses  of  selfish  desire  and  the 
fear  and  sorrow  of  the  narrow  life  of  self,  and 
now  I  can  claim  with  fullest  hope,  'Give  me  what 
is  good,  in  whatever  form  —  in  sorrow,  loss, 
insult,  bereavement  —  I  shall  be  glad  to  receive 
it,  for  I  know  it  comes  from  Thee.' " 

But  however  weak  we  may  be  we  have  to  utter 


MEDITATION  199 

this  prayer.  For  we  know  that  even  though 
we  may  be  plunged  into  misery  and  sorrow,  yet 
he  who  realizes  that  he  lives  in  his  Father  will 
be  glad  to  receive  whatever  comes  from  His  hands. 
That  is  freedom.  For  freedom  cannot  be  in 
mere  pleasure.  But  when  we  can  defy  danger 
and  death,  privation  and  sorrow,  and  yet  feel 
the  freedom  —  when  we  have  not  the  least 
doubt  about  the  life  in  our  Father  —  then  every- 
thing comes  with  a  message  of  gladness  and  we 
can  receive  it  with  humility  and  joy  and  bow  our 
heads  in  gratitude. 

"Namah  sambhavaya." 

"I  bow  to  Thee  from  whom  come  the  enjoy- 
ments of  life."  We  gladly  welcome  these,  all  the 
different  streams  of  joy  running  through  various 
channels  —  and  for  these  we  bow  to  Thee. 

"Mayobhavaya  cha." 

"I  also  bow  to  Thee  from  whom  comes  the 
welfare  of  man."  Welfare  contains  in  it  both 
the  joys  and  sorrows  of  life,  loss  and  gain.  To 
Thee  who  givest  pain,  sorrow  and  bereavement 
—  to  Thee  I  bow. 


200  PERSONALITY 

"Namah  shivaya  cha  shivataraya  cha." 

"I  bow  to  thee  who  art  good,  who  art  the  high- 
est good." 

!  This  is  the  complete  text.  The  first  part  is 
the  prayer  for  consciousness  that  we  are  living 
not  merely  in  the  world  of  earth,  air  and  water, 
but  in  the  real  world  of  personality,  of  love.  And 
when  we  realize  we  are  in  this  love  —  then  we 
feel  the  disharmony  of  our  lives  apart  from 
love.  We  do  not  feel  it,  till  we  are  conscious 
of  our  relation  to  our  Father.  But  when  we  are 
conscious,  we  feel  the  discord  so  strongly  that  it 
smites  us  and  we  feel  it  to  be  death.  It  becomes 
intolerable  when  we  are  in  the  very  slightest 
manner  conscious  that  we  are  surrounded  by 
the  love  of  our  Father. 

Then  comes  the  prayer  for  freedom  from 
things  and  for  the  highest  good  —  i.e.,  freedom 
in  God. 

And  then  comes  the  conclusion.     We  bow  to 
Him  in  whom  we  all  enjoy  life,  in  whom  is  the 
welfare  of  the  soul,  in  whom  is  the  good. 
10m,  Shantih,  Shantih,  Shantih.     Om. 


WOMAN 


WOMAN 

When  male  creatures  indulge  in  their  fighting 
propensity  to  kill  one  another  Nature  connives 
at  it,  because,  comparatively  speaking,  females 
are  needful  to  her  purpose,  while  males  are  barely 
necessary.  Being  of  an  economic  disposition  she 
does  not  specially  care  for  the  hungry  broods 
who  are  quarrelsomely  voracious  and  who  yet 
contribute  very  little  towards  the  payment  of 
Nature's  bill.  Therefore  in  the  insect  world  we 
witness  the  phenomenon  of  the  females  taking 
it  upon  themselves  to  keep  down  the  male  popu- 
lation to  the  bare  limit  of  necessity. 

But  because  greatly  relieved  of  their  responsi- 
bility to  Nature,  the  males  in  the  human  world 
have  had  the  freedom  of  their  occupation  and 
adventures.  The  definition  of  the  human  being 
is  said  to  be  that  he  is  the  tool-making  animal. 
This  tool-making  is  outside  of  Nature's  scope. 
In   fact,   with   our   tool-making   power  we   have 

203 


204  PERSONALITY 

been  able  to  defy  Nature.  The  human  male, 
having  the  most  part  of  his  energies  free,  developed 
this  power,  and  became  formidable.  Thus  though 
in  the  vital  department  of  humanity  woman 
still  occupies  the  throne  given  to  her  by  Nature, 
man  in  the  mental  department  has  created  and 
extended  his  own  dominion.  For  this  great 
work  detachment  of  mind  and  freedom  of  move- 
ment were   necessary. 

Man  took  advantage  of  his  comparative  free- 
dom from  the  physical  and  emotional  bondage, 
and  marched  unencumbered  towards  his  exten- 
sion of  life's  boundaries.  In  this  he  has  travelled 
through  the  perilous  path  of  revolutions  and 
ruins.  Time  after  time  his  accumulations  have 
been  swept  away  and  the  current  of  progress  has 
disappeared  at  its  source.  Though  the  gain  has 
been  considerable  yet  the  waste  in  comparison 
has  been  still  more  enormous,  especially  when  we 
consider  that  much  of  the  wealth,  when  vanished, 
has  taken  away  the  records  with  it.  Through 
this  repeated  experience  of  disasters  man  has 
discovered  the  truth,  —  though  not  fully  utilized 


WOMAN  205 

it,  that  in  all  his  creations  the  moral  rhythm  has 
to  be  maintained  to  save  them  from  destruction ; 
that  a  mere  unlimited  augmentation  of  power 
does  not  lead  to  real  progress,  and  there  must 
be  balance  of  proportion,  must  be  harmony  of 
the  structure  with  its  foundation  to  indicate  a 
real  growth  in  truth. 

This  ideal  of  stability  is  deeply  cherished  in 
woman's  nature.  She  is  never  in  love  with 
merely  going  on,  shooting  wanton  arrows  of 
curiosity  into  the  heart  of  darkness.  All  her 
forces  instinctively  work  to  bring  things  to  some 
shape  of  fulness,  —  for  that  is  the  law  of  life. 
In  life's  movement  though  nothing  is  final  yet 
every  step  has  its  rhythm  of  completeness. 
Even  the  bud  has  its  ideal  of  rounded  perfection, 
so  has  the  flower,  and  also  the  fruit.  But  an 
unfinished  building  has  not  that  ideal  of  whole- 
ness in  itself.  Therefore  if  it  goes  on  indefinitely 
in  its  growth  of  dimensions,  it  gradually  grows 
out  of  its  standard  of  stability.  The  masculine 
creations  of  intellectual  civilization  are  towers  of 
Babel,  they  dare  to  defy  their   foundations  and 


206  PERSONALITY 

therefore  topple  down  over  and  over  again.  Thus 
human  history  is  growing  up  over  layers  of  ruins ; 
it  is  not  a  continuous  life  growth.  The  present 
war  is  an  illustration  of  this.  The  economic  and 
political  organizations,  which  merely  represent 
mechanical  power,  born  of  intellect,  are  apt  to 
forget  their  centres  of  gravity  in  the  foundational 
world  of  life.  The  cumulative  greed  of  power  and 
possession  which  can  have  no  finality  of  com- 
pleteness in  itself,  which  has  no  harmony  with 
the  ideal  of  moral  and  spiritual  perfection,  must 
at  last  lay  a  violent  hand  upon  its  own  ponder- 
ousness   of  material. 

At  the  present  stage  of  history  civilization 
is  almost  exclusively  masculine,  a  civilization  of 
power,  in  which  woman  has  been  thrust  aside  in 
the  shade.  Therefore  it  has  lost  its  balance 
and  it  is  moving  by  hopping  from  war  to  war. 
Its  motive  forces  are  the  forces  of  destruction 
and  its  ceremonials  are  carried  through  an  appall- 
ing number  of  human  sacrifices.  This  one-sided 
civilization  is  crashing  along  a  series  of  catas- 
trophes   at   a   tremendous    speed  because  of  its 


WOMAN  207 

one-sidedness.  And  at  last  the  time  has  arrived 
when  woman  must  step  in  and  impart  her  life 
rhythm  into  this  reckless  movement  of  power. 

For  woman's  function  is  the  passive  function 
of  the  soil  which  not  only  helps  the  tree  to  grow 
but  keeps  its  growth  within  limits.  The  tree 
must  have  life's  adventure  and  send  up  and 
spread  out  its  branches  on  all  sides,  but  all  its 
deeper  bonds  of  relation  are  hidden  and  held 
firm  in  the  soil  and  this  helps  it  to  live.  Our 
civilization  must  also  have  its  passive  element 
broad  and  deep  and  stable.  It  must  not  be  mere 
growth  but  harmony  of  growth.  It  must  not 
be  all  tune  but  it  must  have  its  time  also.  This 
time  is  not  a  barrier,  it  is  what  the  banks  are 
to  the  river;  they  guide  its  current  into  per- 
manence, which  otherwise  would  lose  itself  into 
the  amorphousness  of  morass.  It  is  rhythm, 
the  rhythm  which  does  not  check  the  world's 
movements  but  leads  them  into  truth  and  beauty. 

Woman  is  endowed  with  the  passive  qualities 
of  chastity,  modesty,  devotion  and  power  of 
self-sacrifice  in  a  greater  measure  than  man  is. 


208  PERSONALITY 

It  is  the  passive  quality  in  nature  which  turns 
its  monster  forces  into  perfect  creations  of  beauty 
—  taming  the  wild  elements  into  the  delicacy  of 
tenderness  fit  for  the  service  of  life.  This  passive 
quality  has  given  woman  that  large  and  deep 
placidity  which  is  so  necessary  for  the  healing  and 
nourishing  and  storing  of  life.  If  life  were  all 
spending,  then  it  would  be  like  a  rocket,  going 
up  in  a  flash  and  coming  down  the  next  moment 
in  ashes.  Life  should  be  like  a  lamp  where  the 
potentiality  of  light  is  far  greater  in  quantity 
than  what  appears  as  the  flame.  It  is  in  the 
depth  of  passiveness  in  woman's  nature  that 
this  potentiality  of  life  is  stored. 

I  have  said  elsewhere  that  in  the  women  of 
the  Western  world  a  certain  restlessness  is 
noticed  which  cannot  be  the  normal  aspect  of 
her  nature.  For  women  who  want  something 
special  and  violent  in  their  surroundings  to  keep 
their  interests  active  only  prove  that  they  have 
lost  touch  with  their  own  true  world.  Appar- 
ently, numbers  of  women  as  well  as  men  in  the 
West  condemn  the  things  that  are  commonplace. 


WOMAN  209 

They  are  always  hankering  after  something  which 
is  out  of  the  common,  straining  their  powers 
to  produce  a  spurious  originality  that  merely 
surprises  though  it  may  not  satisfy.  But  such 
efforts  are  not  a  real  sign  of  vitality.  And  they 
must  be  more  injurious  to  women  than  to  men, 
because  women  have  the  vital  power  more  strongly 
in  them  than  men  have.  They  are  the  mothers 
of  the  race,  and  they  have  a  real  interest  in  the 
things  that  are  around  them,  that  are  the  common 
things  of  life ;  if  they  did  not  have  that,  then  the 
race  would  perish. 

If,  by  constantly  using  outside  stimulation, 
they  form  something  like  a  mental  drug  habit, 
become  addicted  to  a  continual  dram-drinking 
of  sensationalism,  then  they  lose  the  natural 
high  sensibility  which  they  have,  and  with  it  the 
bloom  of  their  womanhood,  and  their  real  power 
to  sustain  the  human  race  with  what  it  needs  the 
most. 

A  man's  interest  in  his  fellow-beings  becomes 
real  when  he  finds  in  them  some  special  gift  of 
power  or  usefulness,  but  a  woman  feels  interest 


210  PERSONALITY 

in  her  fellow-beings  because  they  are  living 
creatures,  because  they  are  human,  not  because 
of  some  particular  purpose  which  they  can  serve, 
or  some  power  which  they  possess  and  for  which 
she  has  a  special  admiration.  And  because 
woman  has  this  power,  she  exercises  such  charm 
over  our  minds ;  her  exuberance  of  vital  interest 
is  so  attractive  that  it  makes  her  speech,  her 
laughter,  her  movement,  everything  graceful; 
for  the  note  of  gracefulness  is  in  this  harmony 
with  all  our  surrounding  interests. 

Fortunately  for  us,  our  everyday  world  has 
the  subtle  and  unobtrusive  beauty  of  the  com- 
monplace, and  we  have  to  depend  upon  our  own 
sensitive  minds  to  realize  its  wonders  which  are 
invisible  because  spiritual.  If  we  can  pierce 
through  the  exterior,  we  find  that  the  world  in 
its  commonplace  aspects  is  a  miracle. 

We  realize  this  truth  intuitively  through  our 
power  of  love;  and  women,  through  this  power, 
discover  that  the  object  of  their  love  and  sym- 
pathy, in  spite  of  its  ragged  disguise  of  triviality, 
has  infinite  worth.     When  women  have  lost  the 


WOMAN  211 

power  of  interest  in  things  that  are  common,  then 
leisure  frightens  them  with  its  emptiness,  because 
their  natural  sensibilities  being  deadened,  there 
is  nothing  in  their  surroundings  to  occupy  their 
attention.  Therefore  they  keep  themselves  fran- 
tically busy,  not  in  utilizing  the  time,  but  merely 
in  filling  it  up.  Our  everyday  world  is  like  a 
reed,  its  true  value  is  not  in  itself,  —  but  those 
who  have  the  power  and  the  serenity  of  attention 
can  hear  the  music  which  the  Infinite  plays 
through  its  very  emptiness.  But  when  they 
form  the  habit  of  valuing  things  for  themselves, 
then  they  may  be  expected  furiously  to  storm 
your  mind,  to  decoy  your  soul  from  her  love-tryst 
of  the  eternal  and  to  make  you  try  to  smother 
the  voice  of  the  Infinite  by  the  unmeaning  rattle 
of  ceaseless  movement. 

I  do  not  mean  to  imply  that  domestic  life  is 
the  only  life  for  a  woman.  I  mean  that  the 
human  world  is  the  woman's  world,  be  it  domestic 
or  be  it  full  of  the  other  activities  of  life  which 
are  human  activities,  and  not  merely  abstract 
efforts  to  organize. 


212  PERSONALITY 

Wherever  there  is  something  which  is  con- 
cretely personal  and  human,  there  is  woman's 
world.  The  domestic  world  is  the  world  where 
every  individual  finds  his  worth  as  an  individual, 
therefore  his  value  is  not  the  market  value,  but 
the  value  of  love;  that  is  to  say,  the  value  that 
God  in  His  infinite  mercy  has  set  upon  all  His 
creatures.  This  domestic  world  has  been  the 
gift  of  God  to  woman.  She  can  extend  her  radi- 
ance of  love  beyond  its  boundaries  on  all  sides, 
and  even  leave  it  to  prove  her  woman's  nature 
when  the  call  comes  to  her.  But  this  is  a  truth 
which  cannot  be  ignored,  that  the  moment  she 
is  born  in  her  mother's  arms,  she  is  born  in  the 
centre  of  her  own  true  world,  the  world  of  human 
relationships. 

Woman  should  use  her  power  to  break  through 
the  surface  and  go  to  the  centre  of  things,  where 
in  the  mystery  of  life  dwells  an  eternal  source  of 
interest.  Man  has  not  this  power  to  such  an 
extent.  But  woman  has  it,  if  she  does  not  kill 
it,  —  and  therefore  she  loves  creatures  who  are 
not  lovable  for  their  uncommon  qualities.     Man 


WOMAN  213 

has  to  do  his  duty  in  a  world  of  his  own  where  he 
is  always  creating  power  and  wealth  and  organi- 
zations of  different  kinds.  But  God  has  sent 
woman  to  love  the  world,  which  is  a  world  of 
ordinary  things  and  events.  She  is  not  in  the 
world  of  the  fairy-tale  where  the  fair  woman 
sleeps  for  ages  till  she  is  touched  by  the  magic 
wand.  In  God's  world  women  have  their  magic 
wands  everywhere,  which  keeps  their  hearts 
awake,  —  and  these  are  not  the  golden  wands 
of  wealth  nor  the  iron  rods  of  power. 

All  our  spiritual  teachers  have  proclaimed  the 
infinite  worth  of  the  individual.  It  is  the  ram- 
pant materialism  of  the  present  age  which  ruth- 
lessly sacrifices  individuals  to  the  bloodthirsty 
idols  of  organization.  When  religion  was  ma- 
terialistic, when  men  worshipped  their  gods  for 
fear  of  their  malevolence,  or  for  greed  of  wealth 
and  power,  then  the  ceremonies  of  worship 
were  cruel  and  sacrifices  were  claimed  without 
number.  With  the  growth  of  man's  spiritual 
life,  our  worship  has  become  the  worship  of 
love. 


214  PERSONALITY 

At  the  present  stage  of  civilization,  when  the 
mutilation  of  individuals  is  not  only  practised, 
but  glorified,  women  are  feeling  ashamed  of  their 
own  womanliness.  For  God,  with  his  message 
of  love,  has  sent  them  as  guardians  of  individuals, 
and,  in  this  their  divine  vocation,  individuals 
are  more  to  them  than  army  and  navy  and  parlia- 
ment, shops  and  factories.  Here  they  have  their 
service  in  God's  own  temple  of  reality,  where 
love  is  of  more  value  than  power. 

But  because  men  in  their  pride  of  power  have 
taken  to  deriding  things  that  are  living  and  rela- 
tionships that  are  human,  a  large  number  of 
women  are  screaming  themselves  hoarse  to  prove 
that  they  are  not  women,  that  they  are  true  where 
they  represent  power  and  organization.  In  the 
present  age  they  feel  that  their  pride  is  hurt 
when  they  are  taken  as  mere  mothers  of  the  race, 
as  the  ministers  to  the  vital  needs  of  its  exist- 
ence, and  to  its  deeper  spiritual  necessity  of  sym- 
pathy and  love. 

Because  men  praise  with  pious  unctuousness  the 
idolatry  of  their  manufactured  images  of  abstrac- 


WOMAN  215 

tions,  women  in  shame  are  breaking  their  own 
true  God,  who  is  waiting  for  His  worship  of  self- 
sacrifice  in  love. 

Changes  have  been  going  on  for  a  long  time 
underneath  the  solid  crust  of  society  on  which 
woman's  world  has  its  foundation.  Of  late, 
with  the  help  of  science,  civilization  has  been 
growing  increasingly  masculine,  from  which  the 
full  reality  of  the  individual  is  more  and  more 
ignored.  Organization  is  encroaching  upon  the 
province  of  personal  relationship,  and  sentiment 
is  giving  way  to  law.  In  some  societies,  too 
much  dominated  by  masculine  ideals,  infanticide 
prevailed,  which  ruthlessly  kept  down  the  female 
element  of  the  population  as  low  as  possible. 
The  same  thing  in  another  form  has  taken  place 
in  modern  civilization.  In  its  inordinate  lust 
for  power  and  wealth  it  has  robbed  woman 
of  the  most  part  of  her  world,  and  the  home  is 
every  day  being  crowded  out  by  the  office.  It  is 
taking  the  whole  world  for  itself,  leaving  hardly 
any  room  for  woman.  It  is  not  merely  inflicting 
injury  but  insult  upon  her. 


216  PERSONALITY 

But  woman  cannot  be  pushed  back  for  good 
into  the  mere  region  of  the  decorative  by  man's 
aggressiveness  of  power.  For  she  is  not  less 
necessary  in  civilization  than  man  but  possibly 
more  so.  In  the  geological  history  of  earth  the 
periods  of  gigantic  cataclysms  have  passed  when 
the  earth  had  not  attained  her  mellowness  of 
maturity  which  despises  all  violent  exhibition  of 
force.  And  the  civilization  of  competing  com- 
merce and  fighting  powers  must  also  make  room 
for  that  stage  of  perfection  whose  power  lies 
deep  in  beauty  and  beneficence.  So  long  it  has 
been  ambition  which  was  at  the  helm  of  our  his- 
tory, and  therefore  every  right  of  the  individual 
had  to  be  wrenched  by  force  from  the  party  in 
power  and  man  has  had  to  invoke  the  help  of 
evil  to  attain  what  was  good  for  him.  But  such 
arrangement  cannot  last  for  long,  it  must  give 
way  time  after  time;  for  the  seeds  of  violence 
lie  in  wait  in  its  cracks  and  crevices,  and  roots  of 
disruption  spread  in  the  dark  and  cause  break- 
down when  it  is  least  expected. 

Therefore    although    in    the    present    stage    of 


WOMAN  217 

history  man  is  asserting  his  masculine  supremacy 
and  building  his  civilization  with  stone  blocks, 
ignoring  the  living  principle  of  growth,  he  cannot 
altogether  crush  woman's  nature  into  dust  or 
into  his  dead  building  materials.  Woman's  home 
may  have  been  shattered,  but  woman  is  not,  and 
cannot,  herself  be  killed.  It  is  not  that  woman 
is  merely  seeking  her  freedom  of  livelihood,  strug- 
gling against  man's  monopoly  of  business,  but 
against  man's  monopoly  of  civilization  where  he 
is  breaking  her  heart  every  day  and  desolating 
her  life.  She  must  restore  the  lost  social  balance 
by  putting  the  full  weight  of  the  woman  into  the 
creation  of  the  human  world.  The  monster  car 
of  organization  is  creaking  and  growling  along 
life's  highway,  spreading  misery  and  mutilation, 
for  it  must  have  speed  before  everything  else 
in  the  world.  Therefore  woman  must  come  into 
the  bruised  and  maimed  world  of  the  individuals ; 
she  must  claim  each  one  of  them  as  her  own,  the 
useless  and  the  insignificant.  She  must  protect 
under  her  care  all  the  beautiful  flowers  of  senti- 
ments from  the  scorching  laughter  of  the  science 


218  PERSONALITY 

of  proficiency.  The  growing  impurities,  born  of 
life's  deprivation  of  its  normal  conditions  im- 
posed upon  it  by  the  organized  power  of  greed, 
she  must  sweep  away.  The  time  has  come  when 
woman's  responsibility  has  become  greater  than 
ever  before,  when  her  field  of  work  has  far  tran- 
scended the  domestic  sphere  of  life.  The  world 
with  its  insulted  individuals  has  sent  its  appeal 
to  her.  These  individuals  must  find  their  true 
value,  raise  their  heads  once  again  in  the  sun,  and 
renew  their  faith  in  God's  love  through  her  love. 
Men  have  seen  the  absurdity  of  to-day's  civi- 
lization, which  is  based  upon  nationalism,  —  that 
is  to  say,  on  economics  and  politics  and  its  conse- 
quent militarism.  Men  have  been  losing  their 
freedom  and  their  humanity  in  order  to  fit  them- 
selves for  vast  mechanical  organizations.  So  the 
next  civilization,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  based  not 
merely  upon  economical  and  political  competition 
and  exploitation,  but  upon  world-wide  social 
cooperation;  upon  spiritual  ideals  of  reciprocity, 
and  not  upon  economic  ideals  of  efficiency.  And 
then  women  will  have  their  true  place. 


WOMAN  219 

Because  men  have  been  building  up  vast  and 
monstrous  organizations  they  have  got  into  the 
habit  of  thinking  that  this  turning  out  power 
has  something  of  the  nature  of  perfection  in  it- 
self. The  habit  is  ingrained  in  them,  and  it  is 
difficult  for  them  to  see  where  truth  is  missing 
in  this  present  ideal  of  progress. 

But  woman  can  bring  her  fresh  mind  and  all 
her  power  of  sympathy  to  this  new  task  of  build- 
ing up  a  spiritual  civilization,  if  she  will  be  con- 
scious of  her  responsibilities.  Of  course,  she  can 
be  frivolous  or  very  narrow  in  her  outlook,  and 
then  she  will  miss  her  great  mission.  And  just 
because  woman  has  been  insulated,  has  been 
living  in  a  sort  of  obscurity,  behind  man,  I  think 
she  will  have  her  compensation  in  the  civilization 
which  is  waiting  to  come. 

And  these  human  beings  who  have  been  boastful 
of  their  power,  and  aggressive  in  their  exploitation, 
who  have  lost  faith  in  the  real  meaning  of  the 
teaching  of  their  Master,  that  the  meek  shall 
inherit  the  earth,  will  be  defeated  in  the  next 
generation   of  life.     It   is   the   same   thing  that 


220  PERSONALITY 

happened  in  the  ancient  days,  in  the  prehistoric 
times,  to  those  great  monsters  like  the  mammoths 
and  dinosaurs.  They  have  lost  their  inheritance 
of  the  earth.  They  had  the  gigantic  muscles 
for  mighty  efforts  but  they  had  to  give  up  to 
creatures  who  were  much  feebler  in  their  muscles 
and  who  took  up  much  less  space  with  their 
dimensions.  And  in  the  future  civilization  also, 
the  women,  the  feebler  creatures,  —  feebler  at 
least  in  their  outer  aspects,  —  who  are  less  mus- 
cular, and  who  have  been  behindhand,  always 
left  under  the  shadow  of  those  huge  creatures, 
the  men,  —  they  will  have  their  place,  and  those 
bigger  creatures  will  have  to  give  way. 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America. 


HP  HE  following  pages  contain  advertisements  of 
books  by  the  same  author. 


THE  WORKS  OF  SIR  RABINDRANATH  TAGORE 

Nationalism 

Preparing 

A  series  of  lectures;  among  them  are  "  Nationalism  in  the 
West,"  "  Nationalism  in  Japan,"  "  Nationalism  in  India." 

The  Cycle  of  Spring 

Preparing 

Tagore  represents  a  rare  development  of  dramatic  genius, 
one  peculiarly  Indian  in  character.  In  his  plays  there  is  little 
striving  after  ordinary  stage  effects,  no  bid  for  a  curtain,  no 
holding  up  of  the  moment  of  suspense,  in  order  to  force  a 
sensation  with  which  we  are  so  familiar  on  our  American  Stage. 
He  attains  a  naturalness  of  style,  a  simplicity  of  mode,  a 
fluidity  of  movement,  which  is  congenially  influenced  by  the 
musical  affinity  of  his  themes  and  the  leisurely  drama  of  the 
open  air  and  the  courtyard. 

Sacrifice  and  Other  Plays 

Preparing 

A  book  containing  four  separate  plays  consisting  of  "  Sacri- 
fice," "  King  and  Queen,"  "  The  Ascetic,"  and  "  Malini." 


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THE   WORKS   OF  SIR  RABINDRANATH  TAGORE 

Stray  Birds 

Cloth,  J2mo,  $1.50 
Frontispiece  in  color  and  decorations  by  Willy  Pogany. 

Here  is  the  kernel  of  the  wisdom  and  insight  of  the  great 
Hindu  seer  in  the  form  of  short  extracts.  These  sayings  are 
largely  taken  from  his  other  works,  and  are  the  essence  of  his 
Eastern  message  to  the  Western  world.  The  frontispiece  and 
decorations  by  Willy  Pogany  are  beautiful  in  themselves  and  en- 
hance the  spiritual  significance  of  this  extraordinary  book. 


Fruit  Gathering 


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"Tagore  shows  us  a  shining  pathway  up  which  we  can  con- 
fidentially travel  to  those  regions  of  wisdom  and  experience  which 
consciously  or  unconsciously  we  try  to  reach."  —  Boston  Tran- 
script. 

The  Hungry  Stones  and  Other  Stories 

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"  These  short  stories  furnish  a  double  guarantee  of  the  Hindu 
Nobel  Prize  winners'  rightful  place  among  the  notable  literary 
figures  of  our  time."  —  New  York  Globe. 

"Imagination,  charm  of  style,  poetry,  and  depth  of  feeling 
without  gloominess,  characterize  this  volume  of  stories  of  the 
Eastern  poet."  —  Boston  Transcript. 


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THE  WORKS  OF  SIR  RABINDRANATH  TAGORE 

Gitanjali :  Song  Offerings 

Cloth,  $i.2j  and  $1.30 
Leathery  $1.60 

"  Mr.  Tagore's  translations  are  of  trance-like  beauty." 

—  The  London  Athenceutn. 

"  These  poems  are  representative  of  the  highest  degree  of  cul- 
ture, and  yet  instinct  with  the  simplicity  and  directness  of  the 
dweller  on  the  soil."  —  New  York  Sun. 

"...  it  is  the  essence  of  all  poetry  of  East  and  West  alike  — 
the  language  of  the  soul." —  The  Indian  Magazine  and  Review. 


Songs  of  Kabir 


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u  Wonderfully  graphic,  conveying  the  universal  thought  of  the 
Hindu  poet,  yet  retaining  mystic  Eastern  symbolism  in  express- 
ing it."  —  Baltimore  Sun. 

"  The  trend  of  Mr.  Tagore's  mystical  genius  makes  him  a  pecul- 
iarly sympathetic  interpreter  of  Kabir's  vision  and  thought,  and 
the  book  is  perhaps  one  of  the  most  important  which  that  famous 
Hindu  has  introduced  to  the  western  world."  —  Hartford  Post. 


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THE  WORKS  OF  SIR  RABINDRANATH  TAGORE 

THE  NEW  BOLPUR  EDITION  OF 
"The  Standard  Edition  of  Tagore's  Works" 

Each  volume  in  the  Bolpur  Edition,  cloth,  $1.50 
Leather  edition  sold  in  sets  only  at  $2.25  per  volume 

This  beautiful  new  edition,  named  after  Tagore's  famous  school  at  Bol- 
pur, India,  is  a  fitting  celebration  of  his  recent  visit  to  America.  There  are 
ten  volumes  in  the  Bolpur  Edition,  representing  Tagore's  previously  pub- 
lished poems,  plays  and  essays,  and  his  two  new  books  just  issued,  "  Fruit 
Gathering,"  and  "  The  Hungry  Stones,  and  Other  Stories." 

The  paper,  printing  and  general  appearance  of  the  volumes  are  unusual, 
carrying  out  the  intention  of  the  publishers  to  make  these  books  the  stand- 
ard editions  of  this  distinguished  poet's  works. 

A  special  design  has  been  made  for  the  covers,  the  end  papers  and  title 
pages  are  in  colors,  and  each  volume  contains  a  photogravure  frontispiece, 
one  of  these  from  a  portrait  of  Tagore  taken  during  his  recent  visit  to  Japan. 

SIR  RABINDRANATH   TAGORE'S  WORKS 

{Complete  in  the  Bolpur  Edition) 

FRUIT  GATHERING.      (Just  published.)    A  sequel  to  the  famous 

Gitanjali. 
THE    HUNGRY  STONES,  AND    OTHER   STORIES.   (Just 

published.) 
CHITRA  :  A  Play  in  One  Act. 
THE   CRESCENT   MOON  :  Child  Poems. 
THE   GARDENER:  Love  Poems. 
GITANJALI  :  Religious  Poems. 

THE   KING   OF   THE   DARK    CHAMBER.     A  Play. 
SONGS   OF   KABIR. 
SADHANA  :  The  Realization  of  Life. 
THE   POST   OFFICE:  A  Play. 


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THE   WORKS  OF  SIR  RABINDRANATH  TAGORB 

Chitra:  A  Play  in  One  Act 

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"  He  has  given  us  the  soul  of  the  East  disembodied  of  its  sen- 
suality, and  within  it  shines  the  most  perfect  tribute  to  true 
womanhood  and  its  claims.'"  —  Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

"  The  play  is  told  with  the  simplicity  and  wonder  of  imagery 
always  characteristic  of  Rabindranath  Tagore." —  Cleveland 
Plain  Dealer. 

The  Crescent  Moon :  Child  Poems 

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"  Comes  closest  to  life  as  we  know  it  and  to  the  spirit  of  the 
West.  .  .  .  We  can  accept  his  lyrics  of  children  in  full  com- 
prehension of  their  worth,  even  though  we  have  few  poets  who 
speak  with  such  understanding."  —  The  Outlook. 

"  Tagore  is  probably  the  greatest  living  poet,  and  this  book  of 
child  poems  has  the  bloom  of  all  young  life  upon  it  faithfully 
transcribed  by  genius."  —  Metropolitan, 

The  Gardener 

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"  The  very  stuff  of  imagination.  .  .  .  Their  beauty  is  as  deli- 
cate as  the  reflection  of  the  color  of  a  flower." —  Westminster 
Gazette. 

"  The  verses  in  this  book  are  far  finer  and  more  genuine  than 
even  the  best  in  <  Gitanjali.' " —  The  Daily  News  (London). 


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THE  WORKS  OF  SIR  RABINDRANATH  TACORE 

The  King  of  the  Dark  Chamber 

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u  The  most  careless  reader  can  hardly  proceed  far  into  these 
inspired  pages  without  realizing  that  he  is  in  the  presence  of  holy 
things  —  of  an  allegory  of  the  soul  as  has  not  before  been  told  in 
the  English  tongue."  —  Chicago  Evening  Post. 


The  Post  Office 


Cloth,  $1.00  and  $1.30 

Leather,  $1.60 


"Once  more  Tagore  demonstrates  the  universality  of  his 
genius ;  once  more  he  shows  how  art  and  true  feeling  know  no 
racial  and  religious  lines."  —  Kentucky  Post. 

Sadhana :  The  Realization  of  Life 

Cloth,  $1.23  and  $r.fO 
Leather,  $1.60 

"  The  broad  and  sympathetic  treatment  of  the  subject  should 
recommend  it  to  intelligent  readers  of  whatever  type  of  re- 
ligion." —  Boston  Herald. 


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A9>f>H 
1917 


the 

WHflffi  HOUSE 
SJH  FRANCISCO 


